A 


rHE^EXPOSITOR'S    BIBLE, 


EDITED    BY   THE    REV, 


W.    ROBERTSON    NICOLL,    M.A.,   LL.D., 

Editor  of  "  The  Expositor. 


THE     BOOK     OF     JOB 


ROBERT    A.    WATSON,    D.D. 


'^^^ictl^^ 


NEW    YORK: 

A.    C    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON, 
51     EAST    TENTH    STREET. 

i8Q2. 


TH  ^EXPOSITOR'S     BIBLE. 

Edited  by  thf.    Rkv.   W.   ROBERTSON   NICOLL,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

Crmvn  %vo,  cloth,  price  Js.  6d.  each  vol. 

First  Series,  1887-88. 

Colossians.                                     1  Samuel.                                       1 

By  A.  MACLARE>f,  D.D.                                By  Prof.   W.   G.  Blaikie,  D.D. 

St.  Mark.                                          2  Samuel. 

By  Very  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Armagh.                 By  the  same  Author. 

Genesis.                                      1    Hebrews. 

By  Prof,  Marcus  Dods,  D.D.                     By  Principal  T.C.  Edwards.D.D. 

Second  Series,  1888-89. 

Galatians.                                      The  Book  of  Revelation. 

By  Prof.  G.  G.  FiNDLAY,  B.A.                     By  Prof.  W.  Milligan,  D.D. 

The  Pastoral  Epistles.                1  Corinthians. 

By  Rev.  A.  Plimmer,  D.D,                       By  Prof.  Marcus  Dods,  D.D. 

Isaiah  i.— xxxix.                           The  Epistles  of  St.  John. 

By  G.  A.  Smith,  M.A.    Vol.  I.                  ByRt.  Rev.  W.  Alexander.D.D, 

Third  Series,  1889-90. 

Judges  and  Ruth.                         St.  Matthew. 

By  Rev.  R.  A.  Watson,  D.D,                    By  Rev.  J.  Monro  Gibson,  D.D, 

Jeremiah, 

Exodus. 

By  Rev.  C.  J,  Ball,  M.A. 

By  Very  Rev.  the  Dean  of  Armagh. 

Isaiah  xi„— lxvi. 

St.  Luke. 

By  G.  A.  Smith,  M.A.    Vol.  II. 

By  Rev.  H.  Burton,  B.A. 

Fourth  Series,  1890-91. 

Ecclesiastes.                              ;    Leviticus. 

By  Rev.  Samuel  Cox,  D.D.                        By  Rev.  S.  H.  Kellogg,  D.D. 

St.  James  and  St.  Jude.               The  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

By  Rev.  A.  Plummf.r,  D.D.                         By  Prof.  M.  Dons,  D.D.    Vol,  I, 

Proverbs.                                      The  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

By  Rev.  R.  F.  Horton,  M.A,                    By  Prof.  Stokes,  D.D.    Vol.  I. 

Fifth  Series,  1891-92. 

The  Psalms.                                  Ephesians. 

By  A.  Maclarek,  D.D.     Vol.  I.                By  Prof.  G.  G.  Findlay,  B.A. 

1  and2  Thessalonians.             1   The  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

By  Jas.  Dennev,  B.D.                                 By  Prof.  M.  Dons,  D.D.    Vol.  II. 

The  Book  of  Job.                         The  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 

By  R.  A.  Watson,  D.D.                              By  Prof.  Stokes,  D.D.     Vol.  II. 

New  York  :   A,  C.  ARMSTRONG  &  SON,  51,  East  Tenth  Street, 

THE    BOOK    OF    JOB, 


BY/ 

ROBERT    A.   WATSON,    D.D., 

AUTHOR   or 
'judges   and   ruth,"    "gospels   Ol-   YESTERDAY,"   ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 

A.    C.    ARMSTRONG    AND    SON, 

51    EAST    TENTH    STREET. 

1892. 


CONTENTS, 


PROLOGUE. 
I. 

PAGE 

THE    AUTHOR   AND    HIS   WORK 3 

II. 

THE   OPENING   SCENE   ON    EARTH 1 9 

III. 

THE   OPENING   SCENE   IN    HEAVEN 33 

IV. 
THE   SHADOW   OF   GOD'S    HAND 50 

V. 
THE    DILEM.MA   OF   FAITH 6/ 

THE  EIRST  COLLOQUY. 
VI. 

THE   CRY   FROM    THE   DEPTH    .......       85 

VII. 
llli:    THINGS    ELIPHAZ    HAD   SEEN     ....  -99 


vi  CONTENTS. 


v;ii. 

PAGE 
MEN    FALSE:     GOD   OVERBEARING Il6 

IX. 

VENTURESOME   THEOLOGY 1 35 

X. 

THE    THOUGHT    OF    A    DAYSMAN I4I 

XI. 
A    FRESH   ATTEMPT    TO   CONVICT 1 54 

XII. 
BEYOND    FACT   AND    FEAR   TO   GOD  .  .-  .  .    162 


THE   SECOND    COLLOQUY. 
XIII. 

THE   TRADITION    OF    A    PURE    RACE 1 87 

XIV. 

"MY   WITNESS    IN    HEAVEN" 20I 

XV. 
A   SCHEME   OF   WORLD-RULE 21 5 

XVI. 
"  MY   REDEEMER   LIVETH  " 222 

XVII. 
IGNORANT   CRITICISM    OF    LIFE 243 

XVIII. 
ARE   THE   WAYS    OF    THE    LORD    EQUAL  ?  .  .    253 


CONTENTS. 


THE    THIRD   COLLOQUY. 

XIX. 

PAGE 
DOGMATIC   AND    MORAL   ERROR 269 

XX. 

WHERE    IS    ELOAH?  .  .  28 1 

XXI. 
THE   DOMINION    AND   THE   BRIGHTNESS 298 

XXII. 
THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF   HIS   WAYS 302 

xxiir. 

CHORAL   INTERLUDE 313 

XXIV. 
AS   A   PRINCE   BEFORE   THE    KING 320 


ELIHU  INTERVENES. 

XXV. 

POST-EXILIC 

WISDOM 



1 

xxvi. 

THE 

DIVINE 

PREROGATIVE 

.  341 


361 


THE    VOICE  FROM  THE  STORM. 

XXVII. 
JKIUSIC   IN   THE   BOUNDS   OF    LAW  " 381 


viii  CONTENTS. 


XXVITI. 
THE    RECONCILIATION 


XXIX. 
EPILOGUE 


INDEX 


PAGE 


409 


413 


PROLOGUE. 


THE  AUTHOR   AND  HIS    WORK. 

THE  Book  of  Job  is  the  first  great  poem  of  the 
soul  in  its  mundane  conflict,  facing  the  inexorable 
of  sorrow,  change,  pain,  and  death,  and  feehng  within 
itself  at  one  and  the  same  time  weakness  and  energy, 
the  hero  and  the  serf,  brilliant  hopes,  terrible  fears. 
With  entire  veracity  and  amazing  force  this  book 
represents  the  never-ending  drama  renewed  in  every 
generation  and  every  genuine  life.  It  breaks  upon  us 
out  of  the  old  world  and  dim  muffled  centuries  with 
all  the  vigour  of  the  modern  soul  and  that  religious 
impetuosity  which  none  but  Hebrews  seem  fully  to 
have  known.  Looking  for  precursors  of  Job  we  find  a 
seeming  spiritual  burden  and  intensity  in  the  Accadian 
psalms,  their  confessions  and  prayers ;  but  if  they 
prepared  the  way  for  Hebrew  psalmists  and  for  the 
author  of  Job,  it  was  not  by  awaking  the  cardinal 
thoughts  that  make  this  book  what  it  is,  nor  by 
supplying  an  example  of  the  dramatic  order,  the  fine 
sincerity  and  abounding  art  we  find  here  weUing  up 
out  of  the  desert.  The  Accadian  psalms  are  fragments 
of  a  polytheistic  and  ceremonial  world ;  they  spring 
from  the  soil  which  Abraham  abandoned  that  he  might 
found  a  race  of  strong  men  and  strike  out  a  new  clear 
way  of  life.  Exhibiting  the  fear,  superstition,  and 
ignorance  of  our  race,  they  fall  away  from  comparison 

3 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


with  the  marvellous  later  work  and  leave  it  unique 
among  the  legacies  of  man's  genius  to  man's  need. 
Before  it  a  few  notes  of  the  awakening  heart,  athirst 
for  God,  were  struck  in  those  Chaldaean  entreaties,  and 
more  finely  in  Hebrew  psalm  and  oracle  :  but  after  it 
have  come  in  rich  multiplying  succession  the  Lamenta- 
tions of  Jeremiah,  Ecclesiastes,  the  Apocalypse,  the 
Confessions  of  Augustine,  the  Divina  Commedia, 
Hamlet,  Paradise  Regained,  the  Grace  Abounding  of 
Bunyan,  the  Faust  of  Goethe  and  its  progeny,  Shelley's 
poems  of  revolt  and  freedom,  Sartor  Resartus, 
Browning's  Easter  Day  and  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,  Amiel's 
Journal,  with  many  other  writings,  down  to  ''  Mark 
Rutherford "  and  the  ''  Story  of  an  African  Farm." 
The  old  tree  has  sent  forth  a  hundred  shoots,  and 
is  still  full  of  sap  to  our  most  modern  sense.  It  is  a 
chief  source  of  the  world's  penetrating  and  poignant 
literature. 

But  there  is  another  view  of  the  book.  It  may  well 
be  the  despair  of  those  who  desire  above  all  things  to 
separate  letters  from  theolog3^  The  surpassing  genius 
of  the  writer  is  seen  not  in  his  fine  calm  of  assurance 
and  self-possession,  nor  in  the  deft  gathering  and  arrang- 
ing of  beautiful  images,  but  in  his  sense  of  elemental 
realities  and  the  daring  with  which  he  launches  on  a 
painful  conflict.  He  is  convinced  of  Divkie  sovereignty, 
and  yet  has  to  seek  room  for  faith  in  a  world  shadowed 
and  confused.  He  is  a  prophet  in  quest  of  an  oracle, 
a  poet,  a  maker,  striving  to  find  where  and  how  the 
man  for  whom  he  is  concerned  shall  sustain  himself. 
And  yet,  with  this  paradox  wrought  into  its  very 
substance,  his  work  is  richly  fashioned,  a  type  of  the 
highest  literature,  drawing  upon  every  region  natural 
and  supernatural,  descending  into  the  depths  of  human 


rilE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS   WORK.  5 


woe,  rising  to  the  heights  of  the  glory  of  God,  never 
for  one  moment  insensible,  to  the  beauty  and  sublimity 
of  the  universe.  It  is  literature  with  which  theology 
is  so  blended  that  none  can  say,  Here  is  one,  there  the 
other.  The  passion  of  that  race  which  gave  the  world 
the  idea  of  the  soul,  which  clung  with  growing  zeal  to 
the  faith  of  the  One  Eternal  God  as  the  fountain  of  life 
and  equally  of  justice,  this  passion  in  one  of  its  rarest 
modes  pours  through  the  Book  of  Job  like  a  torrent, 
forcing  its  way  towards  the  freedom  of  faith,  the  har- 
mony of  intuition  with  the  truth  of  things.  The  book 
is  all  theology,  one  may  say,  and  all  humanity  no  less. 
Singularly  liberal  in  spirit  and  awake  to  the  various 
elements  of  our  life,  it  is  moulded,  notwithstanding  its 
passion,  by  the  artist's  pleasure  in  perfecting  form, 
adding  wealth  of  allusion  and  ornament  to  strength  of 
thought.  The  mind  of  the  writer  has  not  hastened. 
He  has  taken  long  time  to  brood  over  his  torment  and 
seek  deliverance.  The  fire  burns  through  the  sculpture 
and  carved  framework  and  painted  windows  of  his  art 
with  no  loss  of  heat.  Yet,  as  becomes  a  sacred  book, 
all  is  sobered  and  restrained  to  the  rhythmic  flow  of 
dramatic  evolution,  and  it  is  as  if  the  eager  soul  had 
been  chastened,  even  in  its  fieriest  endeavour,  by  the 
regular  procession  of  nature,  sunrise  and  sunset,  spring 
and  harvest,  and  by  the  sense  of  the  Eternal  One,  Lord 
of  light  and  darkness,  life  and  death.  Built  where, 
before  it,  building  had  never  been  reared  in  such  firm- 
ness of  structure  and  glow  of  orderly  art,  with  such 
design  to  shelter  the  soul,  the  work  is  a  fresh  beginning 
in  theology  as  well  as  literature,  and  those  who  would 
separate  the  two  must  show  us  how  to  separate  them 
here,  must  explain  why  their  union  in  this  poem  is  to 
the   present   moment   so  richly  fruitful.      An  origin  it 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


Stands  by  reason  of  its  subject  no  less  than  its  power, 
sincerity,  and  freedom. 

A  phenomenon  in  Hebrew  thought  and  faith — to 
what  age  does  it  belong  ?  No  record  or  reminiscence 
of  the  author  is  left  from  which  the  least  hint  of  time 
may  be  gathered.  He,  who  by  his  marvellous  poem 
struck  a  chord  of  thought  deep  and  powerful  enough  to 
vibrate  still  and  stir  the  modern  heart,  is  uncelebrated, 
nameless.  A  traveller,  a  master  of  his  country's 
language,  and  versed  no  less  in  foreign  learning,  fore- 
most of  the  men  of  his  day  whensoever  it  was,  he 
passed  away  as  a  shadow^,  though  he  left  an  imperishable 
monument.  "  Like  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude,"  says 
Dr.  Samuel  Davidson,  **  the  brilliant  genius  of  the 
writer  of  Job  attracts  the  admiration  of  men  as  it 
points  to  the  Almighty  Ruler  chastening  yet  loving 
His  people.  Of  one  whose  sublime  conceptions, 
(mounting  the  height  where  Jehovah  is  enthroned  in 
light,  inaccessible  to  mortal  eye),  lift  him  far  above  his 
time  and  people — who  climbs  the  ladder  of  the  Eternal, 
as  if  to  open  heaven — of  this  giant  philosopher  and 
poet  we  long  to  know  something,  his  habitation,  name, 
appearance.  The  very  spot  where  his  ashes  rest  we 
desire  to  gaze  upon.  But  in  vain."  Strange,  do  we 
say  ?  And  yet  how  much  of  her  great  poet,  Shake- 
speare, does  England  know  ?  It  is  not  seldom  the  fate 
of  those  whose  genius  lifts  them  highest  to  be  un- 
recognised by  their  own  time.  As  English  history  tells 
us  more  of  Leicester  than  of  Shakespeare,  so  Hebrew 
history  records  by  preference  the  deeds  of  its  great 
King  Solomon.  A  greater  than  Solomon  was  in  Israel, 
and  history  knows  him  not.  No  prophet  who  followed 
him  and  wrought  sentences  of  his  poem  into  lamenta- 
tion or  oracle,  no  chronicler  of  the  exile  or  the  return. 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS   WORK. 


preserving  the  names  and  lineage  of  the  nobles  of 
Israel,  has  mentioned  him.  Literary  distinction,  the 
praise  of  service  to  his  country's  faith  could  not  have 
been  in  his  mind.  They  did  not  exist.  He  was  content 
to  do  his  work,  and  leave  it  to  the  world  and  to  God. 

And  yet  the  man  lives  in  his  poem.  We  begin  to 
hope  that  some  indication  of  the  period  and  circum- 
stances in  which  he  wrote  may  be  found  when  we 
realise  that  here  and  there  beneath  the  heat  and 
eloquence  of  his  words  may  be  heard  those  undertones 
of  personal  desire  and  trust  which  once  were  the 
solemn  music  of  a  hfe.  His  own,  not  his  hero's,  are 
the  philosophy  of  the  book,  the  earnest  search  for  God, 
the  sublime  despondency,  the  bitter  anguish,  and  the 
prophetic  cry  that  breaks  through  the  darkness.  We 
can  see  that  it  is  vain  to  go  back  to  Mosaic  or  pre- 
Mosaic  times  for  life  and  thought  and  words  like  his ; 
at  whatever  time  Job  lived,  the  poet-biographer  deals 
with  the  perplexities  of  a  more  anxious  world.  In  the 
imaginative  light  with  which  he  invests  the  past  no 
distinct  landmarks  of  time  are  to  be  seen.  The  treat- 
ment is  large,  general,  as  if  the  burden  of  his  subje'ct 
carried  the  writer  not  only  into  the  great  spaces  of 
humanity,  but  into  a  region  where  the  temporal  faded 
into  insignificance  as  compared  with  the  spiritual.  And 
yet,  as  through  openings  in  a  forest,  we  have  glimpses 
here  and  there,  vaguely  and  momentarily  showing  what 
age  it  was  the  author  knew.  The  picture  is  mainly  of 
timeless  patriarchal  life ;  but,  in  the  foreground  or  the 
background,  objects  and  events  are  sketched  that  help 
our  inquiry.  "  His  troops  come  together  and  cast  up 
their  way  against  me."  ^'  From  out  of  the  populous 
city  men  groan,  and  the  soul  of  the  wounded  crieth 
out."     "  He  looseth  the   bond   of  kings,    and   bindeth 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


their  loins  with  a  girdle;  He  leadeth  priests  away 
spoiled,  and  overthroweth  the  mighty.  .  .  .  He  in- 
creaseth  the  nations  and  destroyeth  them  ;  He  spreadeth 
the  nations  abroad  and  bringeth  them  in."  No  quiet 
patriarchal  life  in  a  region  sparsely  peopled,  where  the 
years  went  slow  and  placid,  could  have  supplied  these 
elements  of  the  picture.  The  writer  has  seen  the  woes 
of  the  great  city  in  which  the  tide  of  prosperity  flows 
over  the  crushed  and  dying.  He  has  seen,  and,  indeed, 
we  are  almost  sure  has  suffered  in,  some  national 
disaster  like  those  to  which  he  refers.  A  Hebrew, 
not  of  the  age  after  the  return  from  exile, — for  the  style 
of  his  writing,  partly  through  the  use  of  Arabic  and 
Aramaic  forms,  has  more  of  rude  vigour  and  spon- 
taneity on  the  whole  than  fits  so  late  a  date, — he  appears 
to  have  felt  all  the  sorrows  of  his  people  when  the 
conquering  armies  of  Assyria  or  of  Babylon  overran 
their  land. 

The  scheme  of  the  book  helps  to  fix  the  time  of  the 
composition.  A  drama  so  elaborate  could  not  have 
been  produced  until  literature  had  become  an  art. 
Such  complexity  of  structure  as  we  find  in  Psalm  cxix. 
shows  that  by  the  time  of  its  composition  much  atten- 
tion was  paid  to  form.  It  is  no  longer  the  pure  lyric 
cry  of  the  unlearned  singer,  but  the  ode,  extremely 
artificial  notwithstanding  its  sincerity.  The  compara- 
tively late  date  of  the  Book  of  Job  appears  in  the  orderly 
balanced  plan,  not  indeed  so  laboured  as  the  psalm  re- 
ferred to,  but  certainly  belonging  to  a  literary  age. 

Again,  a  note  of  time  has  been  found  by  comparing 
the  contents  of  Job  with  Proverbs,  Isaiah,  Ecclesiastes, 
and  other  books.  Proverbs,  chaps,  iii.  and  viii.,  for  ex- 
ample, may  be  contrasted  with  chap,  xxviii.  of  the  Book 
of  Job.     Placing  them  together  we  can  hardly  escape 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS    WORK.  9 

the  conclusion  that  the  one  writer  had  been  acquainted 
with  the  work  of  the  other.  Now,  in  Proverbs  it  is 
taken  for  granted  that  wisdom  may  easily  be  found  : 
"  Happy  is  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man 
that  getteth  understanding.  .  .  .  Keep  sound  wisdom 
and  discretion  ;  so  shall  they  be  life  unto  thy  soul  and 
grace  to  thy  neck."  The  author  of  the  panegyric  has 
no  difficulty  about  the  Divine  rules  of  life.  Again, 
Proverbs  viii.  15,  16:  "By  me  kings  reign,  and  princes 
decree  justice.  By  me  princes  rule,  and  nobles,  even 
all  the  judges  of  the  earth."  In  Job  xxviii.,  however, 
we  find  a  different  strain.  There  it  is  :  "  Where  shall 
wisdom  be  found  ?  ...  It  is  hid  from  the  eyes  of  all 
living,  and  kept  close  from  the  fowls  of  the  air  ;  "  and  the 
conclusion  is  that  wisdom  is  with  God,  not  with  man. 
Of  the  two  it  seems  clear  that  the  Book  of  Job  is  later. 
It  is  occupied  with  questions  which  make  wisdom,  the 
interpretation  of  providence  and  the  ordering  of  life, 
exceedingly  hard.  The  writer  of  Job,  with  the  passages 
in  Proverbs  before  him,  appears  to  have  said  to  himself: 
Ah !  it  is  easy  to  praise  wisdom  and  advise  men  to 
choose  wisdom  and  walk  in  her  ways.  But  to  me  the 
secrets  of  existence  are  deep,  the  purposes  of  God 
unfathomable.  He  is  fain,  therefore,  to  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Job  the  sorrowful  cry,  "  Where  shall  wisdom 
be  found,  and  where  is  the  place  of  understanding  ? 
Man  knoweth  not  the  price  thereof.  ...  It  cannot  be 
gotten  for  gold."  Both  in  Proverbs  and  Job,  indeed, 
the  source  of  Hokhma  or  wisdom  is  ascribed  to  the 
fear  of  Jehovah  ;  but  the  whole  contention  in  Job  is 
that  man  fails  in  the  intellectual  apprehension  of  the 
ways  of  God.  Referring  the  earlier  portions  of  Proverbs 
to  the  post-Solomonic  age  we  should  place  the  Book  of 
Job  at  a  later  date. 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


It  is  not  within  our  scope  to  consider  here  all  the 
questions  raised  by  parallel  passages  and  discuss  the 
priority   and  originality   in  each    case.     Some    resem- 
blances  in   Isaiah   may,   however,  be   briefly   noticed, 
because  we  seem  on  the  whole  to  be  led  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  Book  of  Job  was  written  between  the 
periods  of  the  first  and  second  series  of  Isaian  oracles. 
They  are  such  as  these.     In  Isaiah  xix.  5,  "  The  waters 
shall  fail  from  the  sea,  and  the  river  shall  be  wasted 
and  become  dry," — referring  to  the  Nile :  parallel  in  Job 
xiv.  II,  "As  the  waters  fail  from  the  sea,  and  the  river 
decayeth  and  drieth  up," — referring  to  the  passing  of 
human  life.     In  Isaiah  xix.  13,  ''The  princes  of  Zoan 
are  become  fools,   the   princes  of  Noph  are  deceived ; 
they  have  caused  Egypt  to  go  astray," — an  oracle  of 
specific  application :  parallel  in  Job  xii.  24,  "  He  taketh 
away  the  heart  of  the  chiefs  of  the  people  of  the  earth, 
and  causeth  them  to  wander  in  a  wilderness  where  there 
is  no  way," — a  description  at  large.     In  Isaiah  xxviii. 
29,  •'  This  also  cometh  forth  from  Jehovah  of  Hosts, 
which  is  wonderful  in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  wisdom  "  : 
parallel  in  Job  xi.  5,  6,  ''  Oh  that  God  would  speak,  and 
open  His  lips  against  thee  ;  and  that  He  would  show 
thee    the    secrets    of  wisdom,   that    it    is    manifold    in 
effectual  working  ! "     The  resemblance  between  various 
parts  of  Job  and  "  the  writing  of  Hezekiah  when  he 
had  been  sick  and  was  recovered  of  his  sickness,"  are 
sufficiently  obvious,  but  cannot  be  used  in  any  argument 
of  time.     And  on  the  whole,  so  far,  the  generality  and, 
in  the  last  case,  somewhat  stiff  elaboration  of  the  ideas 
in  Job   as   compared   with   Isaiah  are  almost  positive 
proof  that    Isaiah    went    first.     Passing    now    to    the 
fortieth  and  subsequent  chapters  of  Isaiah  we  find  many 
parallels  and  much  general  similarity  to  the  contents  of 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS   WORK.  il 

our  poem.  In  Job  xxvi.  12,  "He  stirreth  up  the  sea 
with  His  power,  and  by  His  understanding  He  smiteth 
through  Rahab  "  :  parallel  in  Isaiah  h.  9,  lO,  "Art  thou 
not  it  that  cut  Rahab  in  pieces,  that  pierced  the  dragon  ? 
Art  thou  not  it  which  dried  up  the  sea,  the  waters 
of  the  great  deep  ? "  In  Job  ix.  8,  "Which  alone 
stretcheth  out  the  heavens,  and  treadeth  upon  the 
waves  of  the  sea "  :  parallel  in  Isaiah  xl.  22,  "  That 
stretcheth  out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain,  and  spreadeth 
them  out  as  a  tent  to  dwell  in."  In  these  and  other 
cases  the  resemblance  is  clear,  and  on  the  whole  the 
simplicity  and  apparent  originality  lie  with  the  Book 
of  Job.  Professor  Davidson  claims  that  Job,  called 
by  God  "My  servant,"  resembles  in  many  points  the 
servant  of  Jehovah  in  Isaiah  liii.,  and  the  claim  must  be 
admitted.  But  on  what  ground  Kuenen  can  affirm  that 
the  writer  of  Job  had  the  second  portion  of  Isaiah 
before  him  and  painted  his  hero  from  it  one  fails  to  see. 
There  are  many  obvious  differences. 

It  has  now  become  almost  clear  that  the  book 
belongs  either  to  the  period  (favoured  by  Ewald,  Renan, 
and  others)  immediately  following  the  captivity  of  the 
northern  tribes,  or  to  the  time  of  the  captivity  of  Judah 
(fixed  upon  by  Dr.  A.  B.  Davidson,  Professor  Cheyne, 
and  others).  We  must  still,  however,  seek  further 
light  by  glancing  at  the  main  problem  of  the  book, 
which  is  to  reconcile  the  justice  of  Divine  providence 
with  the  sufferings  of  the  good,  so  that  man  may 
believe  in  God  even  in  sorest  affliction.  We  must  alsoL. 
consider  the  hint  of  time  to  be  found  in  the  importance 
attached  to  personality,  the  feelings  and  destiny  of  the 
individual  and  his  claim  on  God. 

Taking  first  the  problem, — while  it  is  stated  in  some 
of  the  psalms  and,  indeed,  is  sure  to  have  occurred  to 


12  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

many  a  sufferer,  for  most  think  themselves  undeserving 
of  great  pain  and  affliction, — the  attempt  to  grapple  with 
it  is  first  made  in  Job.  The  Proverbs,  Deuteronomy, 
and  the  historical  books  take  for  granted  that  prosperity 
follows  religion  and  obedience  to  God,  and  that  suffer- 
ing is  the  punishment  of  disobedience.  The  prophets 
also,  though  they  have  their  own  view  of  national 
success,  do  not  dispense  with  it  as  an  evidence  of 
Divine  favour.  Cases  no  doubt  were  before  the  mind 
of  inspired  writers  which  made  any  form  of  the  theory 
difficult  to  hold.  But  these  were  regarded  as  temporary 
and  exceptional,  if  indeed  they  could  not  be  explained 
by  the  rule  that  God  sends  earthly  prosperity  to  the 
good,  and  suffering  to  the  bad  in  the  long  run.  To 
deny  this  and  to  seek  another  rule  was  the  distinction 
of  the  author  of  Job,  his  bold  and  original  adventure  in 
theology.  And  the  attempt  was  natural,  one  may  say 
necessary,  at  a  time  when  the  Hebrew  states  were 
suffering  from  those  shocks  of  foreign  invasion  which 
threw  their  society,  commerce,  and  politics  into  the 
direst  confusion.  The  old  ideas  of  religion  no  longer 
sufficed.  Overcome  in  war,  driven  out  of  their  own 
land,  they  needed  a  faith  which  could  sustain  and  cheer 
them  in  poverty  and  dispersion.  A  generation  having 
no  outlook  beyond  captivity  was  under  a  curse  from 
which  penitence  and  renewed  fidelity  could  not  secure 
deliverance.  The  assurance  of  God's  friendship  in 
afQiction  had  to  be  sought. 

The  importance  attached  to  personality  and  the 
destiny  of  the  individual  is  on  two  sides  a  guide  to  the 
date  of  the  book.  In  some  of  the  psalms,  undoubtedly 
belonging  to  an  earlier  period,  the  personal  cry  is 
heard.  No  longer  content  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  the 
class   or  nation,  the  soul  in  these  psalms  asserts  its 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS   WORK.  13 

direct  claim  on  God  for  light  and  comfort  and  help. 
And  some  of  them,  the  thirteenth  for  example,  insist 
passionately  on  the  right  of  a  believing  man  to  a 
portion  in  Jehovah.  Now  in  the  dispersion  of  the 
northern  tribes  or  the  capture  of  Jerusalem  this  per- 
sonal question  w^ould  be  keenly  accentuated.  Amidst 
the  disasters  of  such  a  time  those  who  are  faithful 
and  pious  suffer  along  with  the  rebellious  and  idola- 
trous. Because  they  are  faithful  to  God,  virtuous  and 
patriotic  beyond  the  rest,  they  may  indeed  have  more 
affliction  and  loss  to  endure.  The  psalmist  among 
his  own  people,  oppressed  and  cruelly  wronged,  has 
the  need  of  a  personal  hope  forced  upon  him,  and 
feels  that  he  must  be  able  to  say,  ''The  Lord  is  my 
shepherd."  Yet  he  cannot  entirely  separate  himself 
from  his  people.  When  those  of  his  own  house  and 
kindred  rise  against  him,  still  they  too  may  claim 
Jehovah  as  their  God.  But  the  homeless  exile,  de- 
prived of  all,  a  solitary  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  has  need  to  seek  more  earnestly  for  the  reason 
of  his  state.  The  nation  is  broken  up  ;  and  if  he  is  to 
find  refuge  in  God,  he  must  look  for  other  hopes  than 
hinge  on  national  recovery.  It  is  the  God  of  the  whole 
earth  he  must  now  seek  as  his  portion.  A  unit  not  of 
Israel  but  of  humanity,  he  must  find  a  bridge  over  the 
deep  chasm  that  seems  to  separate  his  feeble  life  from 
the  Almighty,  a  chasm  all  the  deeper  that  he  has  been 
plunged  into  sore  trouble.  He  must  find  assurance 
that  the  unit  is  not  lost  to  God  among  the  multitudes, 
that  the  life  broken  and  prostrate  is  neither  forgotten 
nor  rejected  by  the  Eternal  King.  And  this  precisely 
corresponds  with  the  temper  of  our  book  and  the 
conception  of  God  we  find  in  it.  A  man  who  has 
known  Jehovah  as  the  God  of  Israel  seeks  his  justifica- 


14  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


tion,  cries  for  his  individual  right  to  Eloah,  the  Most 
High,  the  God  of  universal  nature  and  humanity  and 
providence. 

Now,  it  has  been  alleged  that  through  the  Book  of 
Job  there  runs  a  constant  but  covert  reference  to  the 
troubles  of  the  Jewish  Church  in  the  Captivity,  and 
especially  that  Job  himself  represents  the  suffering 
flock  of  God.  It  is  not  proposed  to  give  up  entirely 
the  individual  problem,  but  along  with  that,  superseding 
that,  the  main  question  of  the  poem  is  held  to  be  why 
Judah  should  suffer  so  keenly  and  lie  on  the  uiezbele  or 
ash-heap  of  exile.  With  all  respect  to  those  who  hold 
this  theory  one  must  say  that  it  has  no  substantial 
support;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  seems  incredible 
that  a  member  of  the  Southern  Kingdom  (if  the  writer 
belonged  to  it),  expending  so  much  care  and  genius  on 
the  problem  of  his  people's  defeat  and  misery,  should 
have  passed  beyond  his  own  kin  for  a  hero,  should 
have  set  aside  almost  entirely  the  distinctive  name 
Jehovah,  should  have  forgotten  the  ruined  temple  and 
the  desolate  city  to  which  every  Jew  looked  back  across 
the  desert  with  brimming  eyes,  should  have  let  himself 
appear,  even  while  he  sought  to  reassure  his  compatriots 
in  their  faith,  as  one  who  set  no  store  by  their  cherished 
traditions,  their  great  names,  their  religious  institutions, 
but  as  one  whose  faith  was  purely  natural  like  that  of 
Edom.  Among  the  good  and  true  men  who,  at  the 
taking  of  Jerusalem  by  Nebuchadnezzar,  were  left  in 
penury,  childless  and  desolate,  a  poet  of  Judah  would 
have  found  a  Jewish  hero.  To  his  drama  what  embellish- 
ment and  pathos  could  have  been  added  by  genius  like 
our  author's,  if  he  had  gone  back  on  the  terrible  siege 
and  painted  the  Babylonian  victors  in  their  cruelty  and 
pride,  the  misery  of  the  exiles  in  the  land  of  idolatry. 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS   WORK. 


One  cannot  help  believing  that  to  this  writer  Jerusalem 
was  nothing,  that  he  had  no  interest  in  its  temple, 
no  love  for  its  ornate  rehgious  services  and  growing 
exclusiveness.  The  suggestion  of  Ewald  may  be 
accepted,  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  Northern 
Kingdom  driven  from  his  home  by  the  overthrow  of 
Samaria.  Undeniable  is  the  fact  that  his  religion  has 
more  sympathy  with-  Teman  than  with  Jerusalem  as 
it  was.  If  he  belonged  to  the  north  this  seems  to 
be  explained.  To  seek  help  from  the  priesthood  and 
worship  of  the  temple  did  not  occur  to  him.  Israel 
broken  up,  he  has  to  begin  afresh.  For  it  is  with  his 
own  religious  trouble  he  is  occupied  ;  and  the  problem 
is  universal. 

Against  the  identification  of  Job  with  the  servant  of 
Jehovah  in  Isaiah  liii.  there  is  one  objection,  and  it  is 
fatal.  The  author  of  Job  has  no  thought  of  the  central 
idea  in  that  passage — vicarious  suffering.  New  light 
would  have  been  thrown  on  the  whole  subject  if  one 
of  the  friends  had  been  made  to  suggest  the  possibility 
that  Job  was  suffering  for  others,  that  the  ''  chastise- 
ment of  their  peace  "  was  laid  on  him.  Had  the  author 
lived  after  the  return  from  captivity  and  heard  of  this 
oracle,  he  would  surely  have  wrought  into  his  poem 
the  latest  revelation  of  the  Divine  method  in  helping 
and  redeeming  men. 

The  distinction  of  the  Book  of  Job  we  have  seen  to 
be  that  it  offers  a  new  beginning  in  theology.  And  it 
does  so  not  only  because  it  shifts  faith  in  the  Divine 
justice  to  a  fresh  basis,  but  also  because  it  ventures 
on  a  universalism  for  which  indeed  the  Proverbs  had 
made  way,  which  however  stood  in  sharp  contrast  to 
the  narrowness  of  the  old  state  religion.  Already  it 
was  admitted  that  others  than  Hebrews  might  love  the 


1 6  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


truth,  follow  righteousness,  and  share  the  blessings  of 
the  heavenly  King.  To  that  broader  faith,  enjoyed 
by  the  thinkers  and  prophets  of  Israel,  if  not  by  the 
priests  and  people,  the  author  of  the  Book  of  Job 
added  the  boldness  of  a  more  liberal  inspiration.  He 
went  beyond  the  Hebrew  family  for  his  hero  to  make 
it  clear  that  man,  as  man,  is  in  direct  relation  to  God. 
The  Psalms  and  the  Book  of  Proverbs  might  be  read 
by  Israelites  and  the  belief  still  retained  that  God 
would  prosper  Israel  alone,  at  any  rate  in  the  end. 
Now,  the  man  of  Uz,  the  Arabian  sheikh,  outside  the 
sacred  fraternity  of  the  tribes,  is  presented  as  a  fearer 
of  the  true  God — His  trusted  witness  and  servant. 
With  the  freedom  of  a  prophet  bringing  a  new  message 
of  the  brotherhood  of  men  our  author  points  us  beyond 
Israel  to  the  desert  oasis. 

Yes  :  the  creed  of  Hebraism  had  ceased  to  guide 
thought  and  lead  the  soul  to  strength.  The  Hokhma 
literature  of  Proverbs,  which  had  become  fashionable  in 
Solomon's  time,  possessed  no  dogmatic  vigour,  fell  often 
to  the  level  of  moral  platitude,  as  the  same  kind  of  litera- 
ture does  with  us,  and  had  little  help  for  the  soul.  The 
state  religion,  on  the  other  hand,  both  in  the  Northern 
and  Southern  Kingdoms,  was  ritualistic,  again  like  ours, 
clung  to  the  old  tribal  notion,  and  busied  itself  about 
the  outward  more  than  the  inward,  the  sacrifices  rather 
than  the  heart,  as  Amos  and  Isaiah  clearly  indicate. 
Hokhma  of  various  kinds,  plus  energetic  ritualism,  was 
falling  into  practical  uselessness.  Those  who  held  the 
religion  as  a  venerable  inheritance  and  national  talis- 
man did  not  base  their  action  and  hope  on  it  out  in  the 
world.  They  were  beginning  to  say,  *'  Who  knoweth 
what  is  good  for  man  in  this  life — all  the  days  of  his 
vain  life  which  he  spendeth  as  a  shadow  ?     For  who 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS    IVORK.  17 

can  tell  a  man  what  shall  be  after  him  under  the  sun  ?  " 
A  new  theology  was  certainly  needed  for  the  crisis  of 
the  time. 

The  author  of  the  Book  of  Job  found  no  school 
possessed  of  the  secret  of  strength.  But  he  sought  to 
God,  and  inspiration  came  to  him.  He  found  himself  in 
the  desert  like  Elijah,  like  others  long  afterwards,  John 
the  Baptist,  and  especially  Saul  of  Tarsus,  whose  words 
we  remember,  "  Neither  went  I  up  to  Jerusalem,  .  .  . 
but  I  went  into  Arabia."  There  he  met  with  a  religion 
not  confined  by  rigid  ceremony  as  that  of  the  southern 
tribes,  not  idolatrous  like  that  of  the  north,  a  religion 
elementary  indeed,  but  capable  of  development.  And 
he  became  its  prophet.  He  would  take  the  wide  world 
into  council.  He  would  hear  Teman  and  Shuach  and 
Naamah  ;  he  would  also  hear  the  voice  from  the  whirl- 
wind, and  the  swelling  sea,  and  the  troubled  nations, 
and  the  eager  soul.  It  was  a  daring  dash  beyond  the 
ramparts.  Orthodoxy  might  stand  aghast  within  its 
fortress.  He  might  appear  a  renegade  in  seeking 
tidings  of  God  from  the  heathen,  as  one  might  now 
who  went  from  a  Christian  land  to  learn  from,  the 
Brahman  and  the  Buddhist.  But  he  would  go  never- 
theless ;  and  it  was  his  wisdom.  He  opened  his  mind 
to  the  sight  of  fact,  and  reported  what  he  found,  so  that 
theology  might  be  corrected  and  made  again  a  hand- 
maid of  faith.  He  is  one  of  those  Scripture  writers 
who  vindicate  the  universality  of  the  Bible,  who  show 
it  to  be  a  unique  foundation,  and  forbid  the  theory  of 
a  closed  record  or  dried-up  spring,  which  is  the  error 
of  Bibliolatry.  He  is  a  man  of  his  age  and  of  the  world, 
yet  in  fellowship  with  the  Eternal  Mind. 

An  exile,  let  us  suppose,  of  the  Northern  Kingdom, 
escaping  with  his  life  from  the  sword  of  the  Assyrian, 

2 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


the  author  of  our  book  has  taken  his  way  into  the 
Arabian  wilderness  and  there  found  the  friendship  of 
some  chief  and  a  safe  retreat  among  his  people.  The 
desert  has  become  familiar  to  him,  the  sandy  wastes 
and  vivid  oases,  the  fierce  storms  and  afQuent  sunshine, 
the  animal  and  vegetable  life,  the  patriarchal  customs 
and  legends  of  old  times.  He  has  travelled  through 
Idumaea,  and  seen  the  desert  tombs,  on  to  Midian  and 
its  lonely  peaks.  He  has  heard  the  roll  of  the  Great 
Sea  on  the  sands  of  the  Shefelah,  and  seen  the  vast 
tide  of  the  Nile  flowing  through  the  verdure  of  the 
Delta  and  past  the  pyramids  of  Memphis.  He  has 
wandered  through  the  cities  of  Egypt  and  viewed  their 
teeming  life,  turning  to  the  use  of  imagination  and 
religion  all  he  beheld.  With  a  relish  for  his  own  lan- 
guage, yet  enriching  it  by  the  words  and  ideas  of  other 
lands,  he  has  practised  himself  in  the  writer's  art,  and 
at  length,  in  some  hour  of  burning  memory  and  revived 
experience,  he  has  caught  at  the  history  of  one  who, 
yonder  in  a  valley  of  the  eastern  wilderness,  knew  the 
shocks  of  time  and  pain  though  his  heart  was  right 
with  God ;  and  in  the  heat  of  his  spirit  the  poet-exile 
makes  the  story  of  that  life  into  a  drama  of  the  trial  of 
human  faith, — his  own  endurance  and  vindication,  his 
own  sorrow  and  hope. 


II. 

THE   OPENING  SCENE   ON  EARTH. 
Chap.  i.  1—5. 

THE  land  of  Uz  appears  to  have  been  a  general 
name  for  the  great  Syro-Arabian  desert.  It  is 
described  vaguely  as  lying  ^'  east  of  Palestine  and 
north  of  Edom,"  or  as  '^  corresponding  to  the  Arabia 
Deserta  of  classical  geography,  at  all  events  so  much 
of  it  as  lies  north  of  the  30th  parallel  of  latitude."  In 
Jer.  XXV.  20,  among  those  to  whom  the  wine-cup  of 
fury  is  sent,  are  mentioned  ''  all  the  mingled  people  and 
all  the  kings  of  the  land  of  Uz."  But  within  this  wide 
region,  extending  from  Damascus  to  Arabia,  from 
Palestine  to  Chaldsea,  it  seems  possible  to  find  a  more 
definite  locality  for  the  dwelling-place  of  Job.  Eliphaz, 
one  of  his  friends,  belonged  to  Teman,  a  district  or  city 
of  Idumaea.  In  Lam.  iv.  21,  the  writer,  who  may  have 
had  the  Bopk  of  Job  before  him,  says,  "  Rejoice  and 
be  glad,  O  daughter  of  Edom,  that  dwellest  in  the 
land  of  Uz "  ;  a  passage  that  seems  to  indicate  a 
habitable  region,  not  remote  from  the  gorges  of  Idumaea. 
It  is  necessary  also  to  fix  on  a  district  which  lay  in 
the  way  of  the  caravans  of  Sheba  and  Tema,  and  was 
exposed  to  the  attacks  of  lawless  bands  of  Chaldseans 
and  Sabeans.  At  the  same  time  there  must  have  been 
a  considerable  population,  abundant  pasturage  for  large 

19 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


flocks  of  camels  and  sheep,  and  extensive  tracts  of 
arable  land.  Then,  the  dwelling  of  Job  lay  near  a  city 
at  the  gate  of  which  he  sat  with  other  elders  to  adminis- 
ter justice.  The  attention  paid  to  details  by  the  author 
of  the  book  warrants  us  in  expecting  that  all  these 
conditions  may  be  satisfied. 

A  tradition  which  places  the  home  of  Job  in  the 
Hauran,  the  land  of  Bashan  of  Scripture,  some  score 
of  miles  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  has  been  accepted  by 
Delitzsch.  A  monastery,  there,  appears  to  have  been 
regarded  from  early  Christian  times  as  authentically 
connected  with  the  name  of  Job.  But  the  tradition  has 
little  value  in  itself,  and  the  locality  scarcely  agrees  in 
a  single  particular  with  the  various  indications  found 
in  the  course  of  the  book.  The  Hauran  does  not  belong 
to  the  land  of  Uz.  It  was  included  in  the  territory 
of  Israel.  Nor  can  it  by  any  stretch  of  imagination 
be  supposed  to  lie  in  the  way  of  wandering  bands  of 
Sabeans,  whose  home  was  in  the  centre  of  Arabia. 

But  the  conditions  are  met — one  has  no  hesitation 
in  saying,  fully  met — in  a  region  hitherto  unidentified 
with  the  dwelHng-place  of  Job,  the  valley  or  oasis  of 
Jauf  (Palgrave,  DjowJ),  lying  in  the  North  Arabian  desert 
about  two  hundred  miles  almost  due  east  from  the 
modern  Maan  and  the  ruins  of  Petra.  Various  inter- 
esting particulars  regarding  this  valley  and  its  inhabi- 
tants are  given  by  Mr.  C.  M.  Doughty  in  his  ''Travels 
in  Arabia  Deserta."  But  the  best  description  is  that 
by  Mr.  Palgrave,  who,  under  the  guidance  of  Bedawin, 
visited  the  district  in  1862.  Travelling  from  Maan  by 
way  of  the  Wadi  Sirhan,  after  a  difficult  and  dangerous 
journey  of  thirteen  days,  their  track  in  the  last  stage 
following  ''  endless  windings  among  low  hills  and  stony 
ledges,"  brought  them  to  greener  slopes  and  traces  of 


i.  1-5.]  THE  OPENING  SCENE   ON  EARTH.  21 

tillage,  and  at  length  "entered  a  long  and  narrow  pass, 
whose  precipitous  banks  shut  in  the  view  on  either 
side."  After  an  hour  of  tedious  marching  in  terrible 
heat,  turning  a  huge  pile  of  crags,  they  looked  down 
into  the  Jauf. 

*'  A  broad,  deep  valley,  descending  ledge  after  ledge 
till  its  innermost  depths  are  hidden  from  sight  amid 
far-reaching  shelves  of  reddish  rock,  below  everywhere 
studded  with  tufts  of  palm  groves  and  clustering  fruit 
trees  in  dark  green  patches,  down  to  the  farthest  end 
of  its  windings ;  a  large  brown  mass  of  irregular 
masonry  crowning  a  central  hill ;  beyond,  a  tall  and 
solitary  tower  overlooking  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
hollow,  and  farther  down,  small  round  turrets  and 
flat  house-roofs,  half  buried  amid  the  garden  foliage, 
the  whole  plunged  in  a  perpendicular  flood  of  light 
and  heat ;  such  was  the  first  aspect  of  the  Djowf  as 
we  now  approached  it  from  the  west."  The  principal 
town  bears  the  name  of  the  district,  and  is  composed 
of  eight  villages,  once  distinct,  which  have  in  process 
of  time  coalesced  into  one.  The  principal  quarter 
includes  the  castle,  and  numbers  about  four  hundred 
houses.  "  The  province  is  a  large  oval  depression,  of 
sixty  or  seventy  miles  long  by  ten  or  twelve  broad, 
lying  between  the  northern  desert  that  separates  it 
from  Syria  and  Euphrates,  and  the  southern  Nefood, 
or  sandy  waste."  Its  fertility  is  great  and  is  aided 
by  irrigation,  so  that  the  dates  and  other  fruits  pro- 
duced in  the  Jauf  are  famed  throughout  Arabia.  The 
people  "occupy  a  half-way  position  between  Bedouins 
and  the  inhabitants  of  the  cultivated  districts."  Their 
number  is  reckoned  at  about  forty  thousand,  and  there 
can  be  no  question  that  the  valley  has  been  a  seat  of 
population  from  remote  antiquity.     To  the  other  points 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


of  identification  may  be  added  this,  that  in  the  Wadi 
Sirhan,  not  far  from  the  entrance  to  the  Jauf,  Mr. 
Palgrave  passed  a  poor  settlement  with  the  name 
Oweysit,  or  Owsit,  which  at  least  suggests  the  iv 
p^topa  rf)  Avai^ihi  of  the  Septuagint,  and  the  Outz,  or 
Uz,  of  our  text.  With  population,  an  ancient  city, 
fertile  fields  and  ample  pasturage  in  the  middle  of  the 
desert,  the  nearest  habitable  region  to  Edom.,  in  the 
way  of  caravans,  generally  safe  from  predatory  tribes, 
yet  exposed  to  those  from  the  east  and  south  that 
might  make  long  expeditions  under  pressure  of  great 
need,  the  valley  of  the  Jauf  appears  to  correspond  in 
every  important  particular  with  the  dwelling-place  of 
the  man  of  Uz. 

The  question  whether  such  a  man  as  Job  ever  lived 
has  been  variously  answered,  one  Hebrew  rabbi,  for 
example,  affirming  that  he  was  a  mere  parable.  But 
Ezekiel  names  him  along  with  Noah  and  Daniel,  James 
in  his  epistle  says,  ''Ye  have  heard  of  the  patience 
of  Job  "  ;  and  the  opening  words  of  this  book,  "  There 
was  a  man  in  the  land  of  Uz,"  are  distinctly  historical. 
To  know,  therefore,  that  a  region  in  the  Arabian  desert 
corresponds  so  closely  with  the  scene  of  Job's  life  is 
to  be  reassured  that  a  true  history  forms  the  basis  of 
the  poem.  The  tradition  with  which  the  author  began 
his  work  probably  supplied  the  name  and  dwelling- 
place  of  Job,  his  wealth,  piety,  and  afflictions,  including 
the  visit  of  his  friends,  and  his  restoration  after  sore 
trial  from  the  very  gate  of  despair  to  faith  and  pros- 
perity. The  rest  comes  from  the  genius  of  the  author 
of  the  drama.  This  is  a  work  of  imagination  based  on 
fact.  And  we  do  not  proceed  far  till  Vv^e  find,  first 
ideal  touches,  then  bold  flights  into  a  region  never 
opened  to  the  gaze  of  mortal  eye. 


i.  1-5.]  THE   OPENING  SCENE   ON  EARTH.  23 

Job  is  described  in  the  third  verse  as  one  of  the  Children 
of  the  East  or  Bene-Kedem,  a  vague  expression  denoting 
the  settled  inhabitants  of  the  North  Arabian  desert,  in 
contrast  to  the  wandering  Bedawin  and  the  Sabeans  of 
the  South.  In  Genesis  and  Judges  they  are  mentioned 
along  with  the  Amalekites,  to  whom  they  were  akin. 
But  the  name  as  used  by  the  Hebrews  probably  covered 
the  inhabitants  of  a  large  district  very  little  known. 
Of  the  Bene-Kedem  Job  is  described  as  the  greatest. 
His  riches  meant  power,  and  in  the  course  of  the  fre- 
quent alternations  of  life  in  those  regions  one  who  had 
enjoyed  unbroken  prosperity  for  many  years  would  be 
regarded  with  veneration  not  only  for  his  wealth,  but 
for  what  it  signified — the  constant  favour  of  Heaven. 
He  had  his  settlement  near  the  city,  and  was  the 
acknowledged  emeer  of  the  valley,  taking  his  place  at 
the  gate  as  chief  judge.  How  great  a  chief  one  might 
become  who  added  to  his  flocks  and  herds  year  by 
year  and  managed  his  affairs  with  prudence  we  learn 
from  the  history  of  Abraham  ;  and  to  the  present  day, 
where  the  patriarchal  mode  of  living  and  customs 
continue,  as  among  the  Kurds  of  the  Persian  highland, 
examples  of  wealth  in  sheep  and  oxen,  camels  and 
asses  almost  approaching  that  of  Job  are  sometimes  to 
be  met  with.  The  numbers — seven  thousand  sheep, 
three  thousand  camels,  five  hundred  yoke  of  oxen,  five 
hundred  she-asses — are  probably  intended  simply  to 
represent  his  greatness.  Yet  they  are  not  beyond  the 
range  of  possibility. 

The  family  of  Job — his  wife,  seven  sons,  and  three 
daughters — are  about  him  when  the  story  begins, 
sharing  his  prosperity.  In  perfect  friendliness  and 
idyllic  joy  the  brothers  and  sisters  spend  their  lives, 
the  shield  of  their  father's  care  and  religion  defending 


24  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


them.  Each  of  the  sons  has  a  day  on  which  he 
entertains  the  others,  and  at  the  close  of  the  circle  of 
festivities,  whether  weekly  or  once  a  year,  there  is  a 
family  sacrifice.  The  father  is  solicitous  lest  his  children, 
speaking  or  even  thinking  irreverently,  may  have  dis- 
honoured God.  For  this  reason  he  makes  the  periodic 
offering,  from  time  to  time  keeping  on  behalf  of  his 
household  a  day  of  atonement.  The  number  of  the 
children  is  not  necessarily  ideal,  nor  is  the  round  of 
festivals  and  sacred  observances.  Yet  the  whole  picture 
of  happy  family  hfe  and  unbroken  joy  begins  to  lift  the 
narrative  into  an  imaginative  light.  So  fine  a  union  of 
youthful  enjoyment  and  fatherly  sympathy  and  puritan- 
ism  is  seldom  approached  in  this  world.  The  poet  has 
kept  out  of  his  picture  the  shadows  which  must  have 
lurked  beneath  the  sunny  surface  of  life.  It  is  not 
even  suggested  that  the  recurring  sacrifices  were  re- 
quired. Job's  thoughtfulness  is  precautionary  :  "  It  may 
be  that  my  sons  have  sinned,  and  renounced  God  in 
their  hearts."  The  children  are  dear  to  him,  so  dear 
that  he  would  have  nothing  come  between  them  and 
the  light  of  heaven. 

For  the  rehgion  of  Job,  sincere  and  deep,  disclosing 
itself  in  these  offerings  to  the  Most  High,  is,  above  his 
fatherly  affection  and  sympathy,  the  distinction  with 
which  the  poet  shows  him  invested.  He  is  a  fearer  of 
the  One  Living  and  True  God,  the  Supremely  Holy. 
In  the  course  of  the  drama  the  speeches  of  Job  often 
go  back  on  his  faithfulness  to  the  Most  High ;  and  we 
can  see  that  he  served  his  fellow-men  justly  and  gener- 
ously because  he  beheved  in  a  Just  and  Generous  God. 
Around  him  were  worshippers  of  the  sun  and  moon, 
whose  adoration  he  had  been  invited  to  share.  But  he 
never  joined  in  it,  even  by  kissing  his  hand  when  the 


[-5.]  THE   OPENING  SCENE  ON  EARTH.  25 


splendid  lights  of  heaven  moved  with  seeming  Divine 
majesty  across  the  sky.  For  him  there  was  but  One 
God,  unseen  yet  ever  present,  to  whom,  as  the  Giver  of 
all,  he  did  not  fail  to  offer  thanksgiving  and  prayer  with 
deepening  faith.  In  his  worship  of  this  God  the  old 
order  of  sacrifice  had  its  place,  simple,  unceremonious. 
Head  of  the  clan,  he  was  the  priest  by  natural  right, 
and  offered  sheep  or  bullock  that  there  might  be  atone- 
ment, or  maintenance  of  fellowship  with  the  Friendly 
Power  who  ruled  the  world.  His  religion  may  be  called 
a  nature  religion  of  the  finest  type — reverence,  faith, 
love,  freedom.  There  is  no  formal  doctrine  beyond 
what  is  imphed  in  the  names  Eloah,  the  Lofty  One, 
Shaddai,  Almighty,  and  in  those  simple  customs  of 
prayer,  confession,  and  sacrifice  in  which  all  believers 
agreed.  Of  the  law  of  Moses,  the  promises  to  Abraham, 
and  those  prophetical  revelations  by  which  the  covenant 
of  God  was  assured  to  the  Hebrew  people  Job  knows 
nothing.  His  is  a  real  religion,  capable  of  sustaining 
the  soul  of  man  in  righteousness,  a  religion  that  can 
save;  but  it  is  a  religion  learned  from  the  voices  of 
earth  and  sky  and  sea,  and  from  human  experience 
through  the  inspiration  of  the  devout  obedient  heart. 
The  author  makes  no  attempt  to  reproduce  the  beliefs 
of  patriarchal  times  as  described  in  Genesis,  but  with 
a  sincere  and  sympathetic  touch  he  shows  what  a  fearer 
of  God  in  the  Arabian  desert  might  be.  Job  is  such  a 
man  as  he  may  have  personally  known. 

In  the  region  of  Idumsea  the  faith  of  the  Most  High 
was  held  in  remarkable  purity  by  learned  men,  who 
formed  a  religious  caste  or  school  of  wide  reputation  ; 
and  Teman,  the  home  of  Eliphaz,  appears  to  have  been 
the  centre  of  the  cultus.  ''  Is  wisdom  no  more  in 
Teman  ?  "  cries  Jeremiah.     "  Is  counsel  perished  from 


26  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

the  prudent  ?  Is  their  wisdom  (hokhma)  vanished  ?  " 
And  Obadiah  makes  a  similar  reference :  ''  Shall  I 
not  in  that  day,  saith  the  Lord,  destroy  the  wise  men 
out  of  Edom,  and  understanding  out  of  the  mount 
of  Esau  ?  "  In  Isaiah  the  darkened  wisdom  of  some 
time  of  trouble  and  perplexity  is  reflected  in  the 
"  burden  of  Dumah,"  that  is,  Idumsea :  ''  One  calleth 
unto  me  out  of  Seir,"  as  if  with  the  hope  of  clearer 
light  on  Divine  providence,  ''  Watchman,  what  of  the 
night  ?  Watchman,  what  of  the  night  ? '.'  And  the 
answer  is  an  oracle  in  irony,  almost  enigma :  ''  The 
morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night.  If  ye  will  inquire, 
inquire;  turn,  come."  Not  for  those  who  dwelt  in 
shadowed  Dumah  was  the  clear  light  of  Hebrew  pro- 
phecy. But  the  wisdom  or  hokhma  of  Edom  and  its 
understanding  were  nevertheless  of  the  kind  in  Proverbs 
and  elsewhere  constantly  associated  with  true  religion 
and  represented  as  almost  identical  with  it.  And  we 
may  feel  assured  that  when  the  Book  of  Job  was  written 
there  was  good  ground  for  ascribing  to  sages  of  Teman 
and  Uz  an  elevated  faith. 

For  a  Hebrew  like  the  author  of  Job  to  lay  aside  for 
a  time  the  thought  of  his  country's  traditions,  the  law 
and  the  prophets,  the  covenant  of  Sinai,  the  sanctuary, 
and  the  altar  of  witness,  and  return  in  writing  his 
poem  to  the  primitive  faith  which  his  forefathers 
grasped  when  they  renounced  the  idolatry  of  Chaldaea 
was  after  all  no  grave  abandonment  of  privilege.  The 
beliefs  of  Teman,  sincerely  held,  were  better  than  the 
degenerate  religion  of  Israel  against  w^hich  Amos  testi- 
fied. Had  not  that  prophet  even  pointed  the  way 
when  he  cried  in  Jehovah's  name — "Seek  not  Bethel, 
nor  enter  into  Gilgal,  and  pass  not  to  Beersheba.  .  .  . 
Seek  Him  that   maketh  the   Pleiades  and  Orion,  and 


i.i-5.]  THE   OPENING  SCENE   ON  EARTH.  27 

turneth  the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morning,  and 
maketh  the  day  dark  with  night ;  that  calleth  for  the 
waters  of  the  sea,  and  poureth  them  out  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth ;  Jehovah  is  His  name "  ?  Israel  after 
apostasy  may  have  needed  to  begin  afresh,  and  to 
seek  on  the  basis  of  the  primal  faith  a  new  atonement 
with  the  Almighty.  At  all  events  there  were  many 
around,  not  less  the  subjects  of  God  and  beloved  by 
Him,  who  stood  in  doubt  amidst  the  troubles  of  life 
and  the  ruin  of  earthly  hopes.  Teman  and  Uz  were 
in  the  dominion  of  the  heavenly  King.  To  correct 
and  confirm  their  faith  would  be  to  help  the  faith  of 
Israel  also  and  give  the  true  religion  of  God  fresh 
power  against  idolatry  and  superstition. 

The  book  which  returned  thus  to  the  religion  of 
Teman  found  an  honourable  place  in  the  roll  of  sacred 
Scriptures.  Although  the  canon  was  fixed  by  Hebrews 
at  a  time  when  the  narrowness  of  the  post-exilic  age 
drew  toward  Pharisaism,  and  the  law  and  the  temple 
were  regarded  with  veneration  far  greater  than  in  the 
time  of  Solomon,  room  was  made  for  this  book  of  broad 
human  sympathy  and  free  faith.  It  is  a  mark  at  once 
of  the  wisdom  of  the  earlier  rabbis  and  their  judgment 
regarding  the  essentials  of  religion.  To  Israel,  as  St. 
Paul  afterwards  said,  belonged  ''  the  adoption,  and  the 
glory,  and  the  covenants,  and  the  giving  of  the  law, 
and  the  service  of  God,  and  the  promises."  But  he  too 
shows  the  same  disposition  as  the  author  of  our  poem 
to  return  on  the  primitive  and  fundamental — the  justi- 
fication of  Abraham  by  his  faith,  the  promise  made  to 
him,  and  the  covenant  that  extended  to  his  family : 
'^  They  which  be  of  faith,  the  same  are  sons  of 
Abraham  "  ;  "  They  which  be  of  faith  are  blessed  with 
the  faithful  Abraham  "  ;  ''  Not  through  the  law  was  the 


28  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

promise  to  Abraham  or  to  his  seed  "  ;  "  That  the  bless- 
ing of  Abraham  might  come  on  the  Gentiles  through 
Jesus  Christ."  A  greater  than  St.  Paul  has  shown  us 
how  to  use  the  Old  Testament,  and  we  have  perhaps 
misunderstood  the  intent  with  which  our  Lord  carried 
the  minds  of  men  back  to  Abraham  and  Moses  and  the 
prophets.  He  gave  a  religion  to  the  whole  world. 
Was  it  not  then  the  spiritual  dignity,  the  religious 
breadth  of  the  Israelite  fathers,  their  sublime  certainty 
of  God,  their  glow  and  largeness  of  faith  for  which 
Christ  went  back  to  them  ?  Did  He  not  for  these  find 
them  preparers  of  His  own  way  ? 

From  the  religion  of  Job  we  pass  to  consider  his 
character  described  in  the  words,  ''  That  man  was  per- 
fect and  upright,  and  one  that  feared  God,  and  eschew^ed 
evil."  The  use  of  four  strong  expressions,  cumulatively 
forming  a  picture  of  the  highest  possible  worth  and 
piety,  must  be  held  to  point  to  an  ideal  life.  The 
epithet  perfect  is  applied  to  Noah,  and  once  and  again 
in  the  Psalms  to  the  disposition  of  the  good.  Generally, 
however,  it  refers  rather  to  the  scheme  or  plan  by  which 
conduct  is  ordered  than  to  the  fulfilment  in  actual  life ; 
and  a  suggestive  parallel  may  be  found  in  the  ''  per- 
fection "  or  ''  entire  sanctification  "  of  modern  dogma. 
The  word  means  complete,  built  up  all  round  so  that  no 
gaps  are  to  be  seen  in  the  character.  We  are  asked  to 
think  of  Job  as  a  man  whose  uprightness,  goodness, 
and  fidelity  towards  man  were  unimpeachable,  who 
was  also  tow-ards  God  reverent,  obedient,  grateful, 
wearing  his  religion  as  a  white  garment  of  unsullied 
virtue.  Then  is  it  meant  that  he  had  no  infirmity  of 
will  or  soul,  that  in  him  for  once  humanity  stood 
absolutely  free  from  defect  ?  Scarcely.  The  perfect 
man    in    this    sense,   with    all    moral    excellences    and 


i-S-]  THE  OPENING  SCENE  ON  EARTH.  29 


without  weakness,  would  as  little  have  served  the 
purpose  of  the  writer  as  one  marred  by  any  gross  or 
deforming  fault.  The  course  of  the  poem  shows  that 
Job  was  not  free  from  errors  of  temper  and  infirmities 
of  will.  He  who  is  proverbially  known  as  the  most 
patient  failed  in  patience  when  the  bitter  cup  of 
reproach  had  to  be  drained.  But  undoubtedly  the 
writer  exalts  the  virtue  of  his  hero  to  the  highest 
range,  a  plane  above  the  actual.  In  order  to  set  the 
problem  of  the  book  in  a  clear  light  such  purity  of 
soul  and  earnest  dutifulness  had  to  be  assumed  as 
would  by  every  reckoning  deserve  the  rewards  of  God, 
the  ''  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ;  enter  thou 
into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

The  years  of  Job  have  passed  hitherto  in  unbroken 
prosperity.  He  has  long  enjoyed  the  bount}^  of  provi- 
dence, his  children  about  him,  his  increasing  flocks  of 
sheep  and  camels,  oxen  and  asses  feeding  in  abundant 
pastures.  The  stroke  of  bereavement  has  not  fallen 
since  his  father  and  mother  died  in  ripe  old  age.  The 
dreadful  simoom  has  spared  his  flocks,  the  wandering 
Bedawin  have  passed  them  by.  An  honoured  chief,  he 
rules  in  wisdom  and  righteousness,  ever  mindful  of  the 
Divine  hand  by  which  he  is  blessed,  earning  for  himself 
the  trust  of  the  poor  and  the  gratitude  of  the  afflicted. 
Enjoying  unbounded  respect  in  his  own  country,  he  is 
known  beyond  the  desert  to  a  circle  of  friends  who 
admire  him  as  a  man  and  honour  him  as  a  servant  of 
God.  His  steps  are  washed  with  butter,  and  the  rock 
pours  him  out  rivers  of  oil.  The  lamp  of  God  shines 
upon  his  head,  and  by  His  light  he  walks  through 
darkness.  His  root  is  spread  out  to  the  waters,  and 
the  dew  lies  all  night  upon  his  branch. 

Now  let  us  judge  this  life  from  a  point  of  view  which 


30  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

the  writer  may  have  taken,  which  at  any  rate  it  becomes 
us  to  take,  with  our  knowledge  of  what  gives  manhood 
its  true  dignity  and  perfectness.  Obedience  to  God, 
self-control. and  self-culture,  the  observance  of  religious 
forms,  brotherliness  and  compassion,  uprightness  and 
purity  of  life,  these  are  Job's  excellences.  But  all 
circumstances  are  favourable,  his  wealth  makes  bene- 
ficence easy  and  moves  him  to  gratitude.  His  natural 
disposition  is  towards  piety  and  generosity  ;  it  is  pure 
joy  to  him  to  honour  God  and  help  his  fellow-men.  The 
life  is  beautiful.  But  imagine  it  as  the  unclouded  ex- 
perience of  years  in  a  world  where  so  many  are  tried 
with  suffering  and  bereavement,  foiled  in  their  st/enuous 
toil  and  disappointed  in  their  dearest  hopes,  and  is 
it  not  evident  that  Job's  would  tend  to  become  a 
kind  of  dream-life,  not  deep  and  strong,  but  on  the 
surface,  a  broad  stream,  clear,  glittering  with  the  reflec- 
tion of  moon  and  stars  or  of  the  blue  heaven,  but 
shallow,  gathering  no  force,  scarcely  moving  towards 
the  ocean  ?  When  a  Psalmist  says,  '^  Thou  hast  set  our 
iniquities  before  Thee,  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of 
Thy  countenance.  For  all  our  days  are  passed  away 
in  Thy  wrath  :  we  bring  our  years  to  an  end  as  a  tale 
that  is  told,"  he  depicts  the  common  experience  of  men, 
a  sad  experience,  yet  needful  to  the  highest  wisdom 
and  the  noblest  faith.  No  dreaming  is  there  when  the 
soul  is  met  with  sore  rebuffs  and  made  aware  of  the 
profound  abyss  that  lies  beneath,  when  the  limbs  fail 
on  the  steep  hills  of  difficult  duty.  But  a  long  succes- 
sion of  prosperous  years,  immunity  from  disappoint- 
ment, loss,  and  sorrow,  lulls  the  spirit  to  repose. 
Earnestness  of  heart  is  not  called  for,  and  the  will, 
however  good,  is  never  braced  to  endurance.  Whether 
by  subtle  intention  or  by  an  instinctive  sense  of  fitness, 


i  1-5.]  THE   OPENING  SCENE   ON  EARTH.  31 

the  writer  has  painted  Job  as  one  who  with  all  his 
virtue  and  perfectness  spent  his  life  as  in  a  dream  and 
needed  to  be  awakened.  He  is  a  Pygmalion's  statue  of 
flawless  marble,  the  face  divinely  calm  and  not  without 
a  trace  of  self-conscious  remoteness  from  the  suffering 
multitudes,  needing  the  hot  blast  of  misfortune  to  bring 
it  to  life.  Or,  let  us  say,  he  is  a  nev/  type  of  humanity 
in  paradise,  an  Adam  enjoying  a  Garden  of  Eden  fenced 
in  from  every  storm,  as  yet  undiscovered  by  the  enemy. 
We  are  to  see  the  problem  of  the  primitive  story  of 
Genesis  revived  and  wrought  out  afresh,  not  on  the  old 
lines,  but  in  a  way  that  makes  it  real  to  the  race  of 
suffering  men.  The  dream-life  of  Job  in  his  time  of 
prosperity  corresponds  closely  with  that  ignorance  of 
good  and  evil  which  the  first  pair  had  in  the  garden 
eastward  in  Eden  while  as  yet  the  forbidden  tree  bore 
its  fruit  untouched,  undesired,  in  the  midst  of  the 
greenery  and  flowers. 

When  did  the  man  Job  live  ?  Far  back  in  the 
patriarchal  age,  or  but  a  short  time  before  the  author 
of  the  book  came  upon  his  story  and  made  it  immortal  ? 
We  may  incline  to  the  later  date,  but  it  is  of  no  import- 
ance. For  us  the  interest  of  the  book  is  not  antiquarian 
but  humane,  the  relation  of  pain  and  afQiction  to  the 
character  of  man,  the  righteous  government  of  God. 
The  life  and  experiences  of  Job  are  idealised  so  that 
the  question  may  be  clearly  understood ;  and  the  writer 
makes  not  the  slightest  attempt  to  give  his  book  the 
colour  of  remote  antiquity. 

But  we  cannot  fail  to  be  struck  from  the  outset  with 
the  genius  shown  in  the  choice  of  a  life  set  in  the 
Arabian  desert.  For  breadth  of  treatment,  for  pictur- 
esque and  poetic  effect,  for  the  development  of  a  drama 
that  was  to  exhibit  the  individual  soul  in  its  need  of 


32  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

God,  in  the  shadow  of  deep  trouble  as  well  as  the  sun- 
shine of  success,  the  scenery  is  strikingly  adapted,  far 
better  than  if  it  had  been  laid  in  some  village  of  Israel. 
Inspiration  guided  the  writer's  choice.  The  desert 
alone  gave  scope  for  those  splendid  pictures  of  nature, 
those  noble  visions  of  Divine  Almightiness,  and  those 
sudden  and  tremendous  changes  which  make  the  move- 
ment impressive  and  sublime. 

The  modern  analogue  in  literature  is  the  philosophic 
novel.  But  Job  is  far  more  intense,  more  operatic, 
as  Ewald  says,  and  the  elements  are  even  simpler. 
Isolation  is  secured.  Life  is  bared  to  its  elements. 
The  personality  is  entangled  in  disaster  with  the  least 
possible  machinery  or  incident.  The  dramatising  alto- 
gether is  singularly  abstract.  And  thus  we  are  enabled 
to  see,  as  it  were,  the  very  thought  of  the  author,  lonely, 
resolute,  appealing,  under  the  widespread  Arabian  sky 
and  the  Divine  infinitude. 


111. 

THE   OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN, 
Chap.  i.  6 — 12. 

WITH  the  presentation  of  the  scene  in  heaven, 
the  genius,  the  pious  daring,  and  fine  moral 
insight  of  the  writer  at  once  appear — in  one  word,  his 
inspiration.  From  the  first  we  feel  a  sure  yet  deeply 
reverent  touch,  a  spirit  composed  in  its  high  resolve. 
The  thinking  is  keen,  but  entirely  without  strain.  In 
no  mere  flash  did  the  over-world  disclose  itself  and 
those  decrees  that  shape  man's  destiny.  There  is 
constructive  imagination.  Wherever  the  idea  of  the 
heavenly  council  was  found,  whether  in  the  vision 
Micaiah  narrated  to  Jehoshaphat  and  Ahab,  or  in  the 
great  vision  of  Isaiah,  it  certainly  was  not  unsought. 
Through  the  author's  own  study  and  art  the  inspiration 
came  that  made  the  picture  what  it  is.  The  calm 
sovereignty  of  God,  not  tyrannical  but  most  sympa- 
thetic, is  presented  with  simple  felicity.  It  was  the 
distinction  of  Hebrew  prophets  to  speak  of  the  Almighty 
with  a  confidence  which  bordered  on  familiarity  yet 
never  lost  the  grace  of  profound  reverence  ;  and  here 
we  find  that  trait  of  serious  naivete.  The  writer 
ventures  on  the  scene  he  paints  with  no  consciousness 
of  daring  nor  the  least  air  of  difficult  endeavour,  but 

iz  3 


34  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


quietly,  as  one  who  has  the  thought  of  the  Divine 
government  of  human  affairs  constantly  before  his 
mind  and  glories  in  the  majestic  wisdom  of  God  and 
His  friendliness  to  men.  In  a  single  touch  the  King 
is  shown,  and  before  Him  the  hierarchies  and  powers 
of  the  invisible  world  in  their  responsibility  to  His  rule. 
Centuries  of  religious  culture  are  behind  the  words, 
and  also  many  years  of  private  meditation  and  philo- 
sophic thought.  To  this  man,  because  he  gave  himself 
to  the  highest  discipline,  revelations  came,  uplifting, 
broad,  and  deep. 

In  contrast  to  the  Almighty  we  have  the  figure  of 
the  Adversary,  or  Satan,  depicted  with  sufficient  clear- 
ness, notably  coherent,  representing  a  phase  of  being 
not  imaginary  but  actual.  He  is  not,  as  the  Satan  of 
later  times  came  to  be,  the  head  of  a  kingdom  peopled 
with  evil  spirits,  a  nether  world  separated  from  the  abode 
of  the  heavenly  angels  by  a  broad,  impassable  gulf. 
He  has  no  distinctive  hideousness,  nor  is  he  painted  as 
in  any  sense  independent,  although  the  evil  bent  of  his 
nature  is  made  plain,  and  he  ventures  to  dispute  the 
judgment  of  the  Most  High.  This  conception  of  the 
Adversary  need  not  be  set  in  opposition  to  those  which 
afterwards  appear  in  Scripture  as  if  truth  must  lie 
entirely  there  or  here.  But  we  cannot  help  contrast- 
ing the  Satan  of  the  Book  of  Job  with  the  grotesque, 
gigantic,  awful,  or  despicable  fallen  angels  of  the  world's 
poetry.  Not  that  the  mark  of  genius  is  wanting  in 
these;  but  they  reflect  the  powers  of  this  world  and 
the  accompaniments  of  malignant  human  despotism. 
The  author  of  Job,  on  the  contrary,  moved  little  by 
earthly  state  and  grandeur,  whether  good  or  evil,  solely 
occupied  with  the  Divine  sovereignty,  never  dreams 
of   one  who   could  maintain    the  slightest  shadow  of 


i.  6-12.]        THE   OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  35 

authority  in  opposition  to  God.  He  cannot  trifle  with 
his  idea  of  the  Almighty  in  the  way  of  representing  a 
rival  to  Him ;  nor  can  he  degrade  a  subject  so  serious 
as  that  of  human  faith  and  well-being  by  painting  with 
any  touch  of  levity  a  superhuman  adversary  of  men. 

Dante  in  his  Inferno  attempts  the  portraiture  of  the 
monarch  of  hell : — 

"  That  emperor  who  sways 
The  realm  of  sorrow,  at  mid-breast  from  the  ice 
Stood  forth ;  and  I  in  stature,  am  more  Hke 
A  giant  than  the  giants  are  to  his  arms.  .  .  . 

...  If  he  were  beautiful 
As  he  is  hideous  now,  and  yet  did  dare 
To  scowl  upon  his  Maker,  well  from  him 
May  all  our  misery  flow." 

The  enormous  size  of  this  figure  is  matched  by  its 
hideousness ;  the  misery  of  the  arch-fiend,  for  all  its 
horror,  is  grotesque  : — 

"At  six  eyes  he  wept;  the  tears 
Adown  three  faces  rolled  in  bloody  foam." 

Passing  to  Milton,  we  find  sublimity  in  his  pictures 
of  the  fallen  legions,  and  it  culminates  in  the  vision  of 
their  king  : — 

"  Above  them  all  the  archangel ;  but  his  face 
Deep  scars  of  thunder  had  intrenched,  and  care 
Sat  on  his  faded  cheek,  but  under  brows 
Of  dauntless  courage,  and  considerate  pride 
Waiting  revenge  :  cruel  his  eye,  but  cast 
Signs  of  remorse  and  passion,  to  behold 
The  fellows  of  his  crime,  .  .  . 
Millions  of  spirits  for  his  fault  amerced 
Of  heaven,  and  from  eternal  splendours  flung 
For  his  revolt." 

The  picture  is  magnificent.  It  has,  however,  little 
justification    from    Scripture.     Even    in    the    Book    of 


36  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

Revelation  we  see  a  kind  of  contempt  of  the  Adversary 
where  an  angel  from  heaven  with  a  great  chain  in  his 
hand  lays  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old  serpent  which  is 
the  devil,  and  Satan,  and  binds  him  a  thousand  years. 
Milton  has  painted  his  Satan  largely,  as  not  altogether 
unfit  to  take  arms  against  the  Omnipotent,  grown 
gigantic,  even  sublime,  in  the  course  of  much  theo- 
logical speculation  that  had  its  source  far  back  in 
Chaldaean  and  Iranian  myths.  Perhaps,  too,  the 
s}/mpathies  of  the  poet,  playing  about  the  fortunes 
of  fallen  royalty,  may  have  unconsciously  coloured  the 
vision  which  he  saw  and  drew  with  such  marvellous 
power,  dipping  his  pencil  ''  in  the  hues  of  earthquake 
and  ecHpse." 

This  splendid  regal  arch-fiend  has  no  kinship  with 
the  Satan  of  the  Book  of  Job ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  Mephistopheles  of  the  *'  Faust,"  although  bearing 
an  outward  resemblance  to  him,  is,  for  a  quite  different 
reason,  essentially  unlike.  Obviously  Goethe's  picture 
of  a  cynical  devil  gaily  perverting  and  damning  a 
human  mind  is  based  on  the  Book  of  Job.  The 
"  Prologue  in  Heaven,"  in  which  he  first  appears,  is 
an  imitation  of  the  passage  before  us.  But  while  the 
vulgarity  and  insolence  of  Mephistopheles  are  in  con- 
trast to  the  demeanour  of  the  Adversary  in  presence 
of  Jehovah,  the  real  distinction  lies  in  the  kind  of 
power  ascribed  to  the  one  and  the  other.  Mephis- 
topheles is  a  cunning  tempter.  He  receives  permission 
to  mislead  if  he  can,  and  not  only  places  his  victim  in 
circumstances  fitted  to  ruin  his  virtue,  but  plies  him 
with  arguments  intended  to  prove  that  evil  is  good, 
that  to  be  pure  is  to  be  a  fool.  No  such  power  of  evil 
suggestion  is  given  to  the  Adversary  of  Job.  His 
action  extends   only  to  the  outward  events  by  which 


i.6-i2.]       THE  OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  37 

the  trial  of  faith  is  brought  about.  Cynical  he  is  and 
bent  on  working  evil,  but  not  by  low  cunning  and 
sophistry.  He  has  no  access  to  the  mind.  While  it 
cannot  be  said  that  Goethe  has  descended  beneath  the 
level  of  possibility,  since  a  contemporary  and  friend  of 
his  own,  Schopenhauer,  might  almost  have  sat  for  the 
portrait  of  Mephistopheles,  the  reaHsm  in  Job  befits 
the  age  of  the  writer  and  the  serious  purpose  he  had 
in  view.  Faust  is  a  work  of  genius  and  art,  and 
succeeds  in  its  degree.  The  author  of  Job  succeeds 
in  a  far  higher  sense,  by  the  charm  of  simple  sincerity 
and  the  strength  of  Divine  inspiration,  keeping  the  play 
of  supernatural  agency  beyond  human  vision,  making 
the  Satan  a  mere  instrument  of  the  Divine  purpose,  in 
no  sense  free  or  intellectually  powerful. 

The  scene  opens  with  a  gathering  of  the  ''  sons  of 
the  Elohim "  in  presence  of  their  King.  Professor 
Cheyne  thinks  that  these  are  "  supernatural  Titanic 
beings  who  had  once  been  at  strife  with  Jehovah,  but 
who  now  at  stated  times  paid  him  their  enforced 
homage " ;  and  this  he  illustrates  by  reference  to 
Chap.  xxi.  22  and  Chap.  xxv.  2.  But  the  question  in 
the  one  passage,  "  Shall  any  teach  God  knowledge  ? 
seeing  Hejudgeth  those  that  are  high"  p'''?"',  the  heights 
of  heaven,  highnesses],  and  the  affirmation  in  the  other, 
''  He  maketh  peace  in  His  high  places,"  can  scarcely  be 
held  to  prove  the  supposition.  The  ordinary  view  that 
they  are  heavenly  powers  or  angels,  willing  servants 
not  unwilling  vassals  of  Jehovah,  is  probably  correct. 
They  have  come  together  at  an  appointed  time  to  give 
account  of  their  doings  and  to  receive  commands,  and 
among  them  the  Satan  or  Adversary  presents  himself, 
one  distinguished  from  all  the  rest  by  the  name  he 
bears  and  the  character  and  function  it  implies.     There 


38  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

is  no  hint  that  he  is  out  of  place,  that  he  has  im- 
pudently forced  his  way  into  the  audience  chamber. 
Rather  does  it  appear  that  he,  like  the  rest,  has  to  give 
his  account.  The  question  "  Whence  comest  thou  ?  " 
expresses  no  rebuke.  It  is  addressed  to  the  Satan  as 
to  the  others.  We  see,  therefore,  that  this  "  Adversary," 
to  whomsoever  he  is  opposed,  is  not  a  being  excluded 
from  communication  with  God,  engaged  in  a  princely 
revolt.  Whea  the  reply  is  put  into  his  mouth  that  he 
has  been  ^' going  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  and  pacing  up 
and  down  in  it,"  the  impression  conveyed  is  that  a 
certain  task  of  observing  men,  perhaps  watching  for 
their  misdeeds,  has  been  assumed  by  him.  He  appears 
a  spirit  of  restless  and  acute  inquiry  into  men's  lives 
and  motives,  with  a  keen  eye  for  the  weaknesses  of 
humanity  and  a  fancy  quick  to  imagine  evil. 

Evidently  we  have  here  a  personification  of  the 
doubting,  misbelieving,  misreading  spirit  which,  in  our 
day,iwe  limit  to  men  and  call  pessimism.  Now  Koheleth 
gives  so  finished  an  expression  to  this  temper  that 
we  can  hardly  be  wrong  in  going  back  some  distance  of 
time  for  its  growth ;  and  the  state  of  Israel  before  the 
northern  captivity  was  a  soil  in  which  every  kind,  of 
bitter  seed  might  spring  up.  The  author  of  Job  may 
well  have  drawn  from  more  than  one  cynic  of  his  day 
when  he  set  his  mocking  figure  in  the  blaze  of  the 
celestial  court.  Satan  is  the  pessimist.  He  exists,  so 
far  as  his  intent  goes,  to  find  cause  against  man,  and 
therefore,  in  effect,  against  God,  as  man's  Creator.  A 
shrewd  thinker  is  this  Adversary,  but  narrowed  to  one 
line  and  that  singularly  like  some  modern  criticism  of 
religion,  the  resemblance  holding  in  this  that  neither 
shows  any  feeUng  of  responsibility.  The  Satan  sneers 
away  faith  and  virtue  ;  the  modern  countenances  both, 


6-12.]       THE   OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN  39 


and  so  has  an  excellent  reason  for  pronouncing  them 
hollow  ;  or  he  avoids  both,  and  is  sure  there  is  nothing 
but  emptiness  where  he  has  not  sought.  Either  way, 
all  is  habcl  habalim — vanity  of  vanities.  And  yet 
Satan  is  so  held  and  governed  by  the  Almighty  that 
he  can  only  strike  where  permission  is  given.  Evil, 
as  represented  by  him,  is  under  the  control  of  Divine 
wisdom  and  goodness.  He  appears  as  one  to  whom 
the  words  of  Christ  "Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord 
thy  God,  and  Him  only  shaft  thou  serve,"  would  bring 
home  a  sense  neither  of  duty  nor  privilege,  but  of  a 
sheer  necessity,  to  be  contested  to  the  last.  Never- 
theless he  is  a  vassal  of  the  Almighty.  Here  the 
touch  of  the  author  is  firm  and  true. 

So  of  pessimistic  research  and  philosophy  now. 
We  have  writers  who  follow  humanity  in  all  its  base 
movements  and  know  nothing  of  its  highest.  The 
research  of  Schopenhauer  and  even  the  psychology  of 
certain  modern  novelists  are  mischievous,  depraving, 
for  this  reason,  if  no  other,  that  they  evaporate 
the  ideal.  They  promote  generally  that  diseased 
egotism  to  which  judgment  and  aspiration  are  alike 
unknown.  Yet  this  spirit  too  serves  where  it  has  no 
dream  of  serving.  It  provokes  a  healthy  opposition, 
shows  a  hell  from  which  men  recoil,  and  creates  so 
deadly  ennui  that  the  least  gleam  of  faith  becomes 
acceptable,  and  even  Theosophy,  because  it  speaks  of 
life,  secures  the  craving  mind.  Moreover,  the  pessimist 
keeps  the  church  a  little  humble,  somewhat  awake  to 
the  error  that  may  underlie  its  own  glory  and  the  mean- 
ness that  mingles  too  often  with  its  piety.  A  result  of 
the  freedom  of  the  human  mind  to  question  and  deny, 
pessimism  has  its  place  in  the  scheme  of  things. 
Hostile  and  often  railing,  it  is  detestable  enough,  but 


40  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


needs  not  alarm  those  who  know  that  God  takes  care 
of  His  world. 

The  challenge  v/hich  begins  the  action  of  the  drama 
— by  whom  is  it  thrown  out  ?  By  the  Almighty.  God 
sets  before  the  Satan  a  good  life  :  ''  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered My  servant  Job  ?  that  there  is  none  like  him 
in  the  earth,  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one  that 
feareth  God,  and  escheweth  evil."  The  source  of  the 
whole  movement,  then,  is  a  defiance  of  unbelief  by  the 
Divine  Friend  of  men  and  Lord  of  all.  There  is  such 
a  thing  as  human  virtue,  and  it  is  the  glory  of  God  to 
be  served  by  it,  to  have  His  power  and  divinity  reflected 
in  man's  spiritual  vigour  and  holiness. 

Why  does  the  Almighty  throw  out  the  challenge  and 
not  wait  for  Satan's  charge  ?  Simply  because  the  trial 
of  virtue  must  begin  with  God.  This  is  the  first  step 
in  a  series  of  providential  dealings  fraught  with  the 
most  important  results,  and  there  is  singular  wisdom 
in  attributing  it  to  God.  Divine  grace  is  to  be  seen 
thrusting  back  the  chaotic  falsehoods  that  darken  the 
world  of  thought.  They  exist  ;  they  are  known  to 
Him  who  rules  ;  and  He  does  not  leave  humanity  to 
contend  with  them  unaided.  In  their  keenest  trials 
the  faithful  are  supported  by  His  hand,  assured  of 
victory  while  they  fight  His  battles.  Ignorant  pride, 
like  that  of  the  Adversary,  is  not  slow  to  enter  into 
debate  even  with  the  All-wise.  Satan  has  the  question 
ready  which  implies  a  lie,  for  his  is  the  voice  of  that 
scepticism  which  knows  no  reverence.  But  the  entire 
action  of  the  book  is  in  the  line  of  establishing  faith 
and  hope.  The  Adversary  is  challenged  to  do  his 
worst ;  and  man,  as  God's  champion,  will  have  to  do 
his  best, — the  world  and  angels  looking  on. 

And  this  thought  of  a  Divine  purpose  to  confound 


i.6-i2.]        THE   OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  41 

the  falsehoods  of  scepticism  answers  another  inquiry 
which  may  readily  occur.  From  the  first  the  Almighty 
knows  and  asserts  the  virtue  of  His  servant, — that  he 
is  one  who  fears  God  and  eschews  evil.  But  why,  then, 
does  He  condescend  to  ask  of  Satan,  "  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered My  servant  Job  ? "  Since  He  has  already 
searched  the  heart  of  Job  and  found  it  faithful.  He  does 
not  need  for  His  own  satisfaction  to  hear  Satan's 
opinion.  Nor  are  we  to  suppose  that  the  expression 
of  this  Adversary's  doubt  can  have  any  real  importance. 
But  if  we  take  the  Satan  as  representing  all  those  who 
depreciate  faith  and  undermine  virtue,  the  challenge  is 
explained.  Satan  is  of  no  account  in  himself.  He  will 
go  on  cavilling  and  suspecting.  But  for  the  sake  of 
the  race  of  men,  its  emancipation  from  the  miserable 
suspicions  that  prey  on  the  heart,  the  question  is 
proposed.  The  drama  has  its  prophetical  design  ;  it 
embodies  a  revelation  ;  and  in  this  lies  the  value  of  all 
that  is  represented.  Satan,  we  shall  find,  disappears, 
and  thereafter  the  human  reason  is  alone  addressed, 
solely  considered.  We  pass  from  scene  to  scene,  from 
controversy  to  controversy,  and  the  great  problem  of 
man's  virtue,  w^hich  also  involves  the  honour  of  God 
Himself,  is  wrought  out  that  our  despondency  and  fear 
may  be  cured  ;  that  we  may  never  say  with  Koheleth, 
''Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity." 

To  the  question  of  the  Almighty,  Satan  replies  by 
another  :  "  Doth  Job  fear  God  for  nought  ?  "  With  a 
certain  air  of  fairness  he  points  to  the  extraordinary 
felicity  enjoyed  by  the  man.  ''Hast  Thou  not  made  an 
hedge  about  him,  and  about  his  house,  and  about  all 
that  he  hath,  on  every  side  ?  Thou  hast  blessed  the 
work  of  his  hands,  and  his  substance  is  increased  in 
the    land."     It    is    a  thought  naturally  arising   in    the 


42  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

mind  that  very  prosperous  people  have  all  on  the  side 
of  their  virtue,  and  may  be  less  pure  and  faithful  than 
they  seem.  Satan  adopts  this  thought,  which  is  not 
only  blameless,  but  suggested  by  what  we  see  of  God's 
government.  He  is  base  and  captious  in  using  it,  and 
turns  it  with  a  sneer.  Yet  on  the  surface  he  only  hints 
that  God  should  employ  His  own  test,  and  so  vindicate 
His  action  in  making  this  man  so  prosperous.  For  why 
should  Job  show  anything  but  gratitude  towards  God 
when  all  is  done  for  him  that  heart  can  desire  ?  The 
favourites  of  kings,  indeed,  who  are  loaded  with  titles 
and  wealth,  sometimes  despise  their  benefactors,  and, 
being  raised  to  high  places,  grow  ambitious  of  one 
still  higher,  that  of  royalty  itself.  The  pampered 
servant  becomes  an  arrogant  rival,  a  leader  of  revolt. 
Thus  too  great  bounty  is  often  met  with  ingratitude. 
It  does  not,  however,  suit  the  Adversary  to  suggest 
that  pride  and  rebellion  of  this  kind  have  begun  to 
show  themselves  in  Job,  or  will  show  themselves.  He 
has  no  ground  for  such  an  accusation,  no  hope  of 
proving  it  true.  He  confines  himself,  therefore,  to  a 
simpler  charge,  and  in  making  it  implies  that  he  is  only 
judging  this  man  on  general  principles  and  pointing 
to  what  is  sure  to  happen  in  the  case.  Yes;  he  knows 
men.  They  are  selfish  at  bottom.  Their  religion  is 
selfishness.  The  blameless  human  fear  is  that  much 
may  be  due  to  favourable  position.  The  Satan  is  sure 
that  all  is  due  to  it. 

Now,  the  singular  thing  here  is  the  fact  that  the 
Adversary's  accusation  turns  on  Job's  enjoyment  of  that 
outward  felicity  which  the  Hebrews  were  constantly 
desiring  and  hoping  for  as  a  reward  of  obedience  to 
God.  The  writer  comes  thus  at  once  to  show  the  peril 
of  the  belief  which  had  corrupted  the  popular  religion 


i.6-12.]       THE  OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  43 


of  his  time,  which  may  even  have  been  his  own  error 
once,  that  abundant  harvests,  safety  from  enemies, 
freedom  from  pestilence,  such  material  prosperity  as 
many  in  Israel  had  before  the  great  disasters,  were  to 
be  regarded  as  the  evidence  of  accepted  piety.  Now 
that  the  crash  has  fallen  and  the  tribes  are  scattered, 
those  left  in  Palestine  and  those  carried  into  exile  alike 
sunk  in  poverty  and  trouble,  the  author  is  pointing  out 
what  he  himself  has  come  to  see,  that  Israel's  concep- 
tion of  religion  had  hitherto  admitted  and  may  even 
have  gendered  a  terrible  mistake.  Piety  might  be  largely 
selfishness — was  often  mingled  with  it.  The  message 
of  the  author  to  his  countrymen  and  to  the  world  is 
that  a  nobler  mind  must  replace  the  old  desire  for 
happiness  and  plenty,  a  better  faith  the  old  trust  that 
God  would  fill  the  hands  that  served  Him  well.  He 
teaches  that,  whatever  may  come,  though  trouble  after 
trouble  may  fall,  the  great  true  Friend  is  to  be  adored 
for  what  He  is,  obeyed  and  loved  though  the  way  lies 
through  storm  and  gloom. 

Striking  is  the  thought  that,  while  the  prophets  Amos 
and  Hosea  were  fiercely  or  plaintively  assailing  the 
luxury  of  Israel  and  the  lives  of  the  nobles,  among 
those  very  men  who  excited  their  holy  wrath  may  have 
been  the  author  of  the  Book  of  Job.  Dr.  Robertson 
Smith  has  shown  that  from  the  ''  gala  days "  of 
Jeroboam  II.  to  the  fall  of  Samaria  there  were  only 
some  thirty  years.  One  who  v/rote  after  the  Captivity 
as  an  old  man  may  therefore  have  been  in  the  flush 
of  youth  when  Amos  prophesied,  may  have  been  one 
of  the  rich  Israelites  who  lay  upon  beds  of  ivory  and 
stretched  themselves  upon  their  couches,  and  ate  lambs 
out  of  the  flock  and  calves  out  of  the  midst  of  the  stall, 
for  whose  gain  the  peasant  and  the  slave  were  oppressed 


44  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

by  stewards  and  officers.  He  may  have  been  one  of 
those  on  whom  the  bhndness  of  prosperity  had  fallen 
so  that  the  storm-cloud  from  the  east  with  its  vivid 
h'ghtning  was  not  seen,  who  held  it  their  safety  to 
bring  sacrifices  every  morning  and  tithes  every  three 
days,  to  offer  a  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving  of  that  which 
was  leavened,  and  proclaim  freewill  offerings  and 
publish  them  (Amos  iv.  4,  5).  The  mere  possibility 
that  the  author  of  Job  may  have  had  this  very  time  of 
prosperity  and  religious  security  in  his  own  past  and 
heard  Hosea's  trumpet  blast  of  doom  is  very  sugges- 
tive, for  if  so  he  has  learned  how  grandly  right  the 
prophets  were  as  messengers  of  God.  By  the  way  of 
personal  sorrow  and  disaster  he  has  passed  to  the 
better  faith  he  urges  on  the  world.  He  sees  what  even 
the  prophets  did  not  fully  comprehend,  that  deso- 
lation might  be  gain,  that  in  the  most  sterile  wilder- 
ness of  life  the  purest  light  of  religion  might  shine  on 
the  soul,  while  the  tongue  was  parched  with  fatal  thirst 
and  the  eye  glazed  with  the  film  of  death.  The 
prophets  looked  always  beyond  the  shadows  of  disaster 
to  a  new  and  better  day  when  the  return  of  a  penitent 
people  to  Jehovah  should  be  followed  by  a  restoration 
of  the  blessings  they  had  forfeited — fruitful  fields  and 
vineyards,  busy  and  populous  cities,  a  general  distri- 
bution of  comfort  if  not  of  wealth.  Even  Amos  and 
Hosea  had  no  clear  vision  of  the  prophetic  hope  the 
first  exile  was  to  yield  out  of  its  darkness  to  Israel  and 
the  world. 

The  question,  then,  "Doth  Job  fear  God  for  nought?" 
sending  a  flash  of  penetrating  fight  back  on  Israel's 
history,  and  especially  on  the  glowing  pictures  of  pros- 
perity in  Solomon's  time,  compelling  all  to  look  to  the 
foundation  and   motives   of  their  faith,  marks   a  most 


i.6-i2.]       THE  OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  45 

important  era  in  Hebrew  thought.  It  is,  we  may  say, 
the  first  note  of  a  piercing  strain  which  thrills  on  to  the 
present  time.  Taking  rise  here,  the  spirit  of  inquiry 
and  self-examination  has  already  sifted  religious  belief 
and  separated  much  of  the  chaff  from  the  wheat.  Yet 
not  all.  The  comfort  and  hope  of  believers  are  not 
yet  lifted  above  the  reach  of  Satan's  javelin.  While 
salvation  is  thought  of  mainly  as  self-enjoyment,  can 
we  say  that  the  purity  of  religion  is  assured  ?  When 
happiness  is  promised  as  the  result  of  faith,  whether 
happiness  now,  or  hereafter  in  heavenly  glory,  the  whole 
fabric  of  religion  is  built  on  a  foundation  insecure, 
because  it  may  be  apart  from  truth,  holiness,  and  virtue. 
It  does  not  avail  to  say  that  holiness  is  happiness, 
and  so  introduce  personal  craving  under  cover  of  the 
finest  spiritual  idea.  To  grant  that  happiness  is  in  any 
sense  the  distinctive  issue  of  faith  and  faithfulness,  to 
keep  happiness  in  view  in  submitting  to  the  restraints 
and  bearing  the  burdens  of  religion,  is  to  build  the 
highest  and  best  on  the  shifting  sand  of  personal  taste  and 
craving.  Make  happiness  that  for  which  the  believer 
is  to  endure  and  strive,  allow  the  sense  of  personal 
comfort  and  immunity  from  change  to  enter  into  his 
picture  of  the  reward  he  may  expect,  and  the  question 
returns,  Doth  this  man  serve  God  for  nought  ?  Life 
is  not  happiness,  and  the  gift  of  God  is  everlasting 
life.  Only  when  we  keep  to  this  supreme  word  in  the 
teaching  of  Christ,  and  seek  the  fulness  and  liberty  and 
purity  of  life,  apart  from  that  happiness  which  is  at 
bottom  the  satisfaction  of  predominant  desires,  shall 
we  escape  from  the  constantly  recurring  doubt  that 
threatens  to  undermine  and  destroy  our  faith. 

If  we  look  further,  we  find  that  the  very  error  which 
has  so  long  impoverished  religion   prevails   in  philan- 


46  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

thropy  and  politics,  prevails  there  at  the  present  time 
to  an  alarming  extent.  The  favourite  aim  of  social 
meliorists  is  to  secure  happiness  for  all.  While  life 
is  the  main  thing,  everywhere  and  always,  strength 
and  breadth  and  nobleness  of  life,  their  dream  is  to 
make  the  warfare  and  service  of  man  upon  the  earth 
so  easy  that  he  shall  have  no  need  for  earnest  personal 
endeavour.  He  is  to  serve  for  happiness,  and  have  no 
service  to  do  that  may  even  in  the  time  of  his  probation 
interfere  with  happiness.  The  pity  bestowed  on  those 
who  toil  and  endure  in  great  cities  and  on  bleak  hillsides 
is  that  they  fail  of  happiness.  Persons  who  have  no 
conception  that  vigour  and  endurance  are  spiritually 
profitable,  and  others  who  once  knew  but  have  forgotten 
the  benefits  of  vigour  and  the  gains  of  endurance,  would 
undo  the  very  order  and  disciphne  of  God.  Are  human 
beings  to  be  encouraged  to  seek  happiness,  taught  to 
doubt  God  because  they  have  little  pleasure,  given 
to  understand  that  those  who  enjoy  have  the  best  of 
the  universe,  and  that  they  must  be  lifted  up  to  this 
level  or  lose  all  ?  Then  the  sweeping  condemnation 
will  hang  over  the  world  that  it  is  following  a  new 
god  and  has  said  farevv^ell  to  the  stern  Lord  of 
Providence. 

Much  may  be  justly  said  in  condemnation  of  the 
jealous,  critical  spirit  of  the  Adversary.  Yet  it  remains 
true  that  his  criticism  expresses  what  would  be  a  fair 
charge  against  men  who  passed  this  stage  of  existence 
without  full  trial.  And  the  Almighty  is  represented  as 
confirming  this  when  He  puts  Job  into  the  hands  of 
Satan.  He  has  challenged  the  Adversary,  opening  the 
question  of  man's  fidelity  and  sincerity.  He  knows 
what  will  result.  It  is  not  the  will  of  some  eternal 
Satan  that  is  the  motive,  but   the  will  of  God.     The 


1.6-12.]        THE   OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  47 

Adversary's  scornful  question  is  woven  into  God's  wise 
ordinance,  and  made  to  subserve  a  purpose  which 
completely  transcends  the  base  hope  involved  in  it. 
The  Hfe  of  Job  has  not  yet  had  the  difficult  and 
strenuous  probation  necessary  to  assured  faith,  or 
rather  to  the  consciousness  of  a  faith  immovably  rooted 
in  God.  It  would  be  utterly  inconsistent  with  the 
Divine  wisdom  to  suppose  God  led  on  and  beguiled  by 
the  sneer  of  His  own  creature  to  do  what  was  needless 
or  unfair,  or  indeed  in  any  sense  opposed  to  His  own 
plan  for  His  creation.  And  we  shall  find  that  through- 
out the  book  it  is  assumed  by  Job,  implied  by  the 
author,  that  what  is  done  is  really  the  doing  of  God 
Himself.  The  Satan  of  this  Divine  poem  remains 
altogether  subsidiary  as  an  agent.  He  may  propose, 
but  God  disposes.  He  may  pride  himself  on  the  keen- 
ness  of  his  intellect ;  but  wisdom,  compared  to  which 
his  subtlety  is  mere  blundering,  orders  the  movement 
of  events  for  good  and  holy  ends. 

The  Adversary  makes  his  proposal :  ''  Put  forth 
now  Thine  hand,  and  touch  all  that  he  hath,  and  he 
will  bid  Thee  farewell."  He  does  not  propose  to  make 
use  of  sensual  temptation.  The  only  method  of  trial 
he  ventures  to  suggest  is  deprivation  of  the  prosperity 
for  which  he  believes  Job  has  served  God.  He  takes 
on  him  to  indicate  what  the  Almighty  may  do,  acknow- 
ledging that  the  Divine  power,  and  not  his,  must  bring 
into  Job's  life  those  losses  and  troubles  that  are  to  test 
his  faith. 

After  all  some  may  ask,  Is  not  Satan  endeavouring 
to  tempt  the  Almighty  ?  And  if  it  were  true  that  the 
prosperous  condition  of  Job,  or  any  man,  implies  God's 
entire  satisfaction  with  his  faith  and  dutifulness  and 
with  his  character  as  a  man,  if,  further,  it  must  be  taken 


48  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


as  true  that  sorrow  and  loss  are  evil,  then  this  proposal 
of  the  Satan  is  a  temptation.  It  is  not  so  in  reality, 
for  "  God  cannot  be  tempted  to  evil."  No  creature 
could  approacli  His  holiness  with  a  temptation.  But 
Satan's  intention  is  to  move  God.  He  considers 
success  and  happiness  to  be  intrinsically  good,  and 
poverty  and  bereavement  to  be  intrinsically  evil.  That 
is  to  say,  we  have  here  the  spirit  of  unfaith  endeavour- 
ing to  destroy  God  as  well  as  man.  For  the  sake  of 
truth  professedly,  for  his  own  pride  of  will  really, 
he  would  arrest  the  righteousness  and  grace  of  the 
Divine.  He  would  unmake  God  and  orphan  man. 
The  scheme  is  futile  of  course.  God  can  allow  his 
proposal,  and  be  no  less  the  Infinitely  generous,  wise, 
and  true.  The  Satan  shall  have  his  desire ;  but  not  a 
shadow  shall  fall  on  the  ineffable  glory. 

At  this  point,  however,  we  must  pause.  The  qu'estion 
that  has  just  arisen  can  only  be  answered  after  a 
survey  of  human  life  in  its  relation  to  God,  and  espe- 
cially after  an  examination  of  the  meaning  of  the  term 
evil  as  applied  to  our  experiences.  We  have  certain 
clear  principles  to  begin  with  :  that  "  God  cannot  be 
tempted  with  evil,  and  He  Himself  tempteth  no  man  " ; 
that  all  God  does  must  show  not  less  beneficence,  not 
less  love,  but  miore  as  the  days  go  by.  These  prin- 
ciples will  have  to  be  vindicated  when  we  proceed  to 
consider  the  losses,  what  may  be  called  the  disasters 
that  follow  each  other  in  quick  succession  and  threaten 
to  crush  the  life  they  try. 

Meanwhile,  casting  a  glance  at  those  happy  dwellings 
in  the  land  of  Uz,  we  see  all  going  on  as  before,  no 
mind  darkened  by  the  shadow  that  is  gathering,  or  in 
the  least  aware  of  the  controversy  in  heaven  so  full 
of  moment  to  the  family  circle.     The  pathetic  ignorance, 


i  6-12.]       THE  OPENING  SCENE  IN  HEAVEN.  49 

the  blessed  ignorance  in  which  a  man  may  hve  hangs 
upon  the  picture.  The  cheerful  bustle  of  the  home- 
stead goes  on,  the  feasts  and  sacrifices,  diligent  labour 
rewarded  with  the  produce  of  fields,  the  wine  and  oil 
of  vineyards  and  olive  gardens,  fleeces  of  the  flock 
and  milk  of  the  kine. 


IV. 

THE   SHADOW   OF    GOD'S    HAND. 
Chap.  i.  13 — 22. 

COMING  now  to  the  sudden  and  terrible  changes 
which  are  to  prove  the  faithfulness  of  the  servant 
of  God,  we  must  not  fail  to  observe  that  in  the 
development  of  the  drama  the  trial  of  Job  personally 
is  the  sole  consideration.  No  account  is  taken  of  the 
character  of  those  who,  being  connected  with  his  fortunes 
and  happiness,  are  now  to  be  swept  away  that  he  may 
suffer.  To  trace  their  history  and  vindicate  Divine 
righteousness  in  reference  to  each  of  them  is  not 
within  the  scope  of  the  poem.  A  typical  man  is  taken 
as  hero,  and  we  may  say  the  discussion  covers  the 
fate  of  all  who  suffer,  although  attention  is  fixed  on 
him  alone. 

The  writer  is  dealing  with  a  story  of  patriarchal 
life,  and  himself  is  touched  with  the  Semitic  way  of 
thinking.  A  certain  disregard  of  the  subordinate  human 
characters  must  not  be  reckoned  strange.  His  thoughts, 
far-reaching  as  they  are,  run  in  a  channel  very  different 
from  ours.  The  world  of  his  book  is  that  of  family 
and  clan  ideas.  The  author  saw  more  than  any  man 
of  his  time;  but  he  could  not  see  all  that  engages 
modern  speculation.  Besides,  the  glory  of  God  is  the 
dominant  idea  of  the  poem ;  not  men's  right  to  joy,  or 

50 


i.  13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  51 

peace,  or  even  life ;  but  God's  right  to  be  wholly  Him- 
self and  greatly  true.  In  the  light  of  this  high  thought 
we  must  be  content  to  have  the  story  of  one  soul 
traced  with  such  fulness  as  might  be  compassed,  the 
others  left  practically  untouched.  If  the  sufferings  of 
the  man  whom  God  approves  can  be  explained  in 
harmony  with  the  glory  of  Divine  justice,  then  the 
sudden  calamities  that  fall  upon  his  servants  and 
children  will  also  be  explained.  For,  although  death 
is  in  a  sense  an  ultimate  thing,  and  loss  and  afQiction, 
however  great,  do  not  mean  so  much  as  death  ;  yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  to  die  is  the  common  lot,  and  the 
quick  stroke  appears  merciful  in  comparison  with  Job's 
dreadful  experiences.  Those  who  are  killed  by  light- 
ning or  by  the  sword  do  but  swiftly  and  without  pro- 
tracted pain  fall  into  the  hands  of  God.  We  need  not 
conclude  that  the  writer  means  us  to  regard  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  Job  and  his  servants  as  mere  chattels, 
like  the  camels  and  sheep,  although  the  people  of  the 
desert  would  have  so  regarded  them.  But  the  main 
question  presses  ;  the  range  of  the  discussion  must 
be  limited  ;  and  the  tradition  which  forms  the  basis 
of  the  poem  is  followed  by  the  author  whenever  it 
supplies  the  elements  of  his  inquiry. 

W^  have  entirely  refused  the  supposition  that  the 
Almighty  forgot  His  righteousness  and  grace  in  putting 
the  wealth  and  happiness  of  Job  into  the  hands  of 
Satan.  The  trials  we  now  see  falling  one  after  the 
other  are  not  sent  because  the  Adversary  has  suggested 
them,  but  because  it  is  right  and  wise,  for  the  glory 
of  God  and  for  the  perfecting  of  faith,  that  Job  should 
suffer  them.  What  is  God's  doing  is  not  in  this  case 
nor  in  any  case  evil.  He  cannot  wrong  His  servant 
that  glory  may  come  to  Himself. 


52  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


And  just  here  arises  a   problem  which  enters   into 
all    religious   thought,    the   wrong    solution    of    which 
depraves  many  a   philosophy,   while   the  right  under- 
standing of  it  sheds  a  flood  of  light  on  our  life  in  this 
world.     A  thousand  tongues,  Christian,  non-Christian, 
and   neo- Christian,  affirm   that  life   is   for   enjoyment. 
What  gives  enjoyment  is  declared   to  be  good,  what 
gives  most   enjoyment  is  reckoned  best,  and  all  that 
makes  for  pain  and   suffering  is  held   to  be  evil.     It 
is  allowed  that  pain  endured  now  may  bring  pleasure 
hereafter,  and  that  for  the  sake  of  future  gain  a  little 
discomfort  may  be  chosen.     But  it  is  evil  nevertheless. 
One  doing  his  best  for  men  would  be  expected  to  give 
them  happiness  at  once  and,  throughout  life,  as  much 
of  it    as   possible.       If  he   inflicted  pain   in   order  to 
enhance  pleasure  by  and  by,  he  would  have  to  do  so 
within    the    strictest    limits.       Whatever    reduces    the 
strength  of  the  body,  the  capacity  of  the  body  for  enjoy- 
ment and  the  delight  of  the  mind   accompanying  the 
body's  vigour,  is  declared  bad,  and  to  do  anything  which 
has  this  effect   is  to   do   evil   or  wrong.     Such  is  the 
ethic  of  the   philosophy  finally  and   powerfully  stated 
by  Mr.  Spencer.     It  has   penetrated   as  widely  as  he 
could  wish  ;  it  underlies  volumes  of  Christian  sermons 
and  semi-Christian  schemes.     If  it   be  true,   then  the 
Almighty  of  the  Book  of  Job,  bringing  affliction,  sorrow, 
and  pain  upon  His  servant,  is  a  cruel  enemy  of  man, 
to  be  hated,  not  revered.     This  matter  needs  to  be  con- 
sidered at  some  length. 

The  notion  that  pain  is  evil,  that  he  who  suffers 
is  placed  at  moral  disadvantage,  appears  very  plainly 
in  the  old  belief  that  those  conditions  and  surroundings 
of'  our  life  which  minister  to  enjoyment  are  the  proofs 
of  the  goodness  of  God   on  which   reliance  must    be 


i.  13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  53 

placed  so  far  as.  nature  and  providence  testify  of  Him. 
Pain  and  sorrow,  it  was  held,  need  to  be  accounted  for 
by  human  sin  or  otherwise;    but  we  know  that  God 
is   good    because  there    is    enjoyment  in   the   life   He 
gives.     Paley,  for  example,  says  that  the  proof  of  the 
Divine  goodness  rests  upon   contrivances   everywhere 
to  be  seen  for  the  purpose  of  giving  us  pleasure.     He 
tells  us  that,   when   God   created   the  human   species, 
"either  He  wished  them  happiness,  or  He  wished  them 
misery,  or  He  was  indifferent  and  unconcerned  about 
either";    and    he    goes  on    to  prove  that  it   must  be 
our  happiness  He  desired,  for,  otherwise,  wishing  our 
misery,  "He  might  have  made  everything  we  tasted, 
bitter  ;  everything  we  saw,  loathsome ;  everything  we 
touched,   a  sting  ;    every  smell,  a   stench ;   and   every 
sound,  a  discord  : "  while,  if  He  had  been  indifferent 
about   our  happiness  we   must   impute   all    enjoyment 
we  have  "  to  our  good  fortune,"  that  is,  to  bare  chance, 
an  impossible  supposition.     Paley's  further  survey  of  life 
leads  to  the  conclusion  that  God  has  it  as  His  chief 
aim  to  make  His  creatures  happy  and,  in  the  circum- 
stances, does  the  best  He  can  for  them,  better  far  than 
they  are  commonly  disposed  to  think.     The  agreement 
of  this  position  with  that  of  Spencer  lies  in  the  presup- 
position that  goodness  can  be  proved  only  by  arrange- 
ments for  giving    pleasure.     If   God  is  good  for  this 
reason,  what  follows  when  He  appoints  pain,  especially 
pain  that  brings  no  enjoyment  in  the  long  run  ?     Either 
He  is  not  altogether  "good  "  or  He  is  not  all-powerful. 
The  author  of  the  Book  of  Job  does  not  enter  into 
the    problem    of    pain    and    affliction    with    the    same 
deliberate  attempt  to  exhaust  the  subject  as  Paley  has 
made  ;   but  he  has   the  problem  before  him.     And  in 
considering  the  trial  of  Job  as  an  example  of  the  suffering 


54  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

and  sorrow  of  man  in  this  world  of  change,  we  find 
a  strong  ray  of  light  thrown  upon  the  darkness.  The 
picture  is  a  Rembrandt ;  and  where  the  radiance  falls 
all  is  sharp  and  bright.  But  the  shadows  are  deep  ; 
and  we  must  seek,  if  possible,  to  make  out  what  lies  in 
those  shadows.  We  shall  not  understand  the  Book  of 
Job,  nor  form  a  just  opinion  of  the  author's  inspiration, 
nor  shall  we  understand  the  Bible  as  a  whole,  unless 
we  reach  a  point  of  view  clear  of  the  mistakes  that 
stultify  the  reasoning  of  Paley  and  plunge  the  mind  of 
Spencer,  who  refuses  to  be  called  a  materialist,  into  the 
utter  darkness  of  materialism. 

Now,  as  to  enjoyment,  we  have  the  capacity  for  it, 
and  it  flows  to  us  from  many  external  objects  as  well 
as  from  the  operation  of  our  own  minds  and  the  putting 
forth  of  energy.  It  is  in  the  scheme  of  things  ordained 
by  God  that  His  creatures  shall  enjoy.  On  the  other 
hand,  trouble,  sorrow,  loss,  bodily  and  mental  pain,  are 
also  in  the  scheme  of  things.  They  are  provided  for  in 
numberless  ways — in  the  play  of  natural  forces  causing 
injuries,  dangers  from  which  we  cannot  escape ;  in  the 
limitations  of  our  power;  in  the  antagonisms  and  dis- 
appointments of  existence  ;  in  disease  and  death.  They 
are  provided  for  by  the  very  laws  that  bring  pleasure, 
made  inevitable  under  the  same  Divine  ordinance. 
Some  say  it  detracts  from  the  goodness  of  God  to 
admit  that  as  He  appoints  means  of  enjoyment  so  He 
also  provides  for  pain  and  sorrow  and  makes  these 
inseparable  from  life.  And  this  opinion  runs  into  the 
extreme  dogmatic  assertion  that  ''  good,"  by  which  we 
are  to  understand  happiness, 

"  Shall  fall 
At  last  far  off,  at  last  to  all.'' 


i.  1 3-22. J  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  55 

Many  hold  this  to  be  necessary  to  the  vindication  of 
God's  goodness.  But  the  source  of  the  whole  confusion 
lies  here,  that  we  prejudge  the  question  by  calling  pain 
evil.  The  Hght-giving  truth  for  modern  perplexity  is 
that  pain  and  loss  are  not  evil,  are  in  no  sense  evil. 

Because  we  desire  happiness  -and  dislike  pain,  we 
must  not  conclude  that  pain  is  bad  and  that,  when 
any  one  suffers,  it  is  because  he  or  another  has  done 
wrong.  There  is  the  mistake  that  vitiates  theological 
thought,  making  men  run  to  the  extreme  either  of 
denying  God  altogether  because  there  is  suffering  in 
the  world,  or  of  framing  a  rose-water  eschatology. 
Pain  is  one  thing,  moral  evil  is  quite  another  thing. 
He  who  suffers  is  not  necessarily  a  wrong-doer ;  and 
when,  through  the  laws  of  nature,  God  inflicts  pain, 
there  is  no  evil  nor  anything  approaching  wrong.  In 
Scripture,  indeed,  pain  and  evil  are  apparently  identi- 
fied. "Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hands  of  God,  and 
shall  we  not  receive  evil  ?  "  "Is  there  evil  in  the  city, 
and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it  ? "  "  Thus  saith  the 
Lord,  Behold  I  will  bring  u-pon  Judah,  and  upon  all 
the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  all  the  evil  that  I  have 
pronounced  against  them."  In  these  and  many  other 
passages  the  very  thing  seems  to  be  meant'  which  has 
just  been  denied,  for  evil  and  suffering  appear  to  be 
made  identical.  But  human  language  is  not  a  perfect 
instrument  of  thought,  any  more  than  thought  is  a 
perfect  channel  of  truth.  One  word  has  to  do  duty  in 
different  senses.  Moral  evil,  wrongness,  on  the  one 
hand ;  bodily  pain,  the  misery  of  loss  and  defeat,  on 
the  other  hand — both  are  represented  by  one  Hebrew 
word  pi — root  meaning,  displeased].  In  the  following 
passages,  where  moral  evil  is  clearly  meant,  it  occurs 
just  as  in  those  previously  quoted  :  "  Wash  you,  make 


56  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

you  clean,  cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well "  ;  "  The 
face  of  the  Lord  is  against  them  that  do  evil."  The 
different  meanings  which  one  Hebrew  word  may  bear 
are  not  generally  confused  in  translation.  In  this  case, 
however,  the  confusion  has  entered  into  the  most 
modern  language.  From  a  highly  esteemed  thinker  the 
following  sentence  may  be  quoted  b}-  way  of  example  : 
"  The  other  religions  did  not  feel  evil  like  Israel ;  it  did 
not  stand  in  such  complete  antagonism  to  their  idea  of 
the  Supreme,  the  Creator  and  Sovereign  of  man,  nor 
in  such  absolute  contradiction  to  their  notion  of  what 
ought  to  be  ;  and  so  they  either  reconciled  themselves 
as  best  the}^  could  to  the  evil  that  was  necessary,  or 
invented  means  by  which  men  could  escape  from  it 
by  escaping  from  existence."  The  singular  misappre- 
hension of  Divine  providence  which  underlies  a  state- 
ment like  this  can  onl}^  be  got  rid  of  by  recognising 
ihat  enjoyment  and  suffering  are  not  the  good  and  evil 
of  life,  that  both  of  them  stand  quite  apart  from  what 
is  intrinsically  good  and  bad  in  a  moral  sense,  and  that 
they  are  simply  means  to  an  end  in  the  providence  of 
God. 

It  is  not  difficult,  of  course,  to  see  how  the  idea  of 
pain  and  the  idea  of  moral  evil  have  been  linked  to- 
gether. It  is  by  the  thought  that  suffering  is  punish- 
ment for  evil  done  ;  and  that  the  suffering  is  therefore 
itself  evil.  Pain  was  simply  penalty  inflicted  by  an 
offended  heavenly  power.  The  evil  of  a  man's  doings 
came  back  to  him,  made  itself  felt  in  his  suffering. 
This  was  the  explanation  of  all  that  was  unpleasant, 
disastrous  and  vexing  in  the  lot  of  man.  He  would 
enjoy  always,  it  was  conceived,  if  wrong-doing  or 
failure  in  duty  to  the  higher  powers  did  not  kindle 
divine    anger   against    him.      True,   the   wrong-doing 


i.  13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  57 

might  not  be  his  own.  The  son  might  suffer  for 
the  parent's  fault.  Iniquit}^  might  be  remembered  to 
children's  children  and  fall  terribly  on  those  who  had 
not  themselves  transgressed.  The  fates  pursued  the 
descendants  of  an  impious  man.  But  wrong  done 
somewhere,  rebellion  of  some  one  against  a  divinit}^, 
was  always  the  antecedent  of  pain  and  sorrow  and 
disaster.  And  as  the  other  religions  thought,  so,  in  this 
matter,  did  that  of  Israel.  To  the  Hebrew  the  deep 
conviction  of  this,  as  Dr.  Fairbairn  has  said,  made 
poverty  and  disease  peculiarly  abhorrent.  In  Psalm 
Ixxxix.  the  prosperit}'  of  David  is  depicted,  and 
Jehovah  speaks  of  the  covenant  that  must  be  kept  : 
"If  his  children  forsake  my  law,  and  walk  not  in  my 
judgments ;  .  .  .  then  will  I  visit  their  transgression 
with  the  rod,  and  their  iniquity  with  stripes."  The 
trouble  has  fallen,  and  out  of  the  depth  of  it,  attributing 
to  past  sin  all  defeat  and  disaster  from  which  the  people 
suffer — the  breaking  down  of  the  hedges,  curtailment 
of  the  vigour  of  youth,  overthrow^  in  W'ar — the  psalmist 
cries,  "  How  long,  O  Lord,  w^ilt  Thou  hide  Thyself  for 
ever  ?  How  long  shall  Th}^  wrath  burn  like  fire  ? 
O  remember  how  short  my  time  is  :  for  what  vanity 
hast  Thou  created  all  the  children  of  men  ?  "  There  is 
here  no  thought  that  anything  painful  or  afflictive  could 
manifest  the  fatherhood  of  God  ;  it  must  proceed  from 
His  anger,  and  force  the  mind  back  upon  the  memory  of 
sin,  some  transgression  that  has  caused  the  Almighty 
to  suspend  His  kindness  for  a  time. 

Here  it  was  the  author  of  Job  found  the  thought  of 
his  people.  With  this  he  had  to  harmonise  the  other 
beliefs — peculiarly  theirs — that  the  lovingkindness  of 
the  Lord  is  over  all  His  works,  that  God  who  is 
supremely  good  cannot  inflict  moral  injury  on  any  of 


58  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


His  covenanted  servants.  And  the  difficulty  he  felt 
survives.  The  questions  are  still  urged  :  Is  not  pain 
bound  up  with  wrong-doing  ?  Is  not  suffering  the 
mark  of  God's  displeasure  ?  Are  they  not  evil,  there- 
fore ?  And,  on  the  other  hand,  Is  not  enjoyment 
appointed  to  him  who  does  right  ?  Does  not  the  whole 
scheme  of  Divine  providence,  as  the  Bible  sets  it  forth, 
including  the  prospect  it  opens  into  the  eternal  future, 
associate  happiness  with  well-doing  and  pain  with  evil- 
doing  ?  We  desire  enjoyment,  and  cannot  help  desiring 
it.  We  dislike  pain,  disease,  and  all  that  limits  our 
capacity  for  pleasure.  Is  it  not  in  accordance  with  this 
that  Christ  appears  as  the  Giver  of  light  and  peace 
and  joy  to  the  race  of  men  ? 

These  questions  look  difficult  enough.  Let  us  attempt 
to  answer  them. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  happiness  and  suffering,  are 
elements  of  creaturely  experience  appointed  by  God. 
The  right  use  of  them  makes  life,  the  wrong  use  of 
thern  mars  it.  They  are  ordained,  all  of  them  in 
equal  degree,  to  a  good  end ;  for  all  that  God  does  is 
done  in  perfect  love  as  well  as  in  perfect  justice.  It  is 
no  more  wonderful  that  a  good  man  should,  suffer  than 
that  a  bad  man  should  suffer;  for  the  good  man,  the 
man  who  believes  in  God  and  therefore  in  goodness, 
making  a  right  use  of  suffering,  will  gain  by  it  in  the 
true  sense  ;  he  will  reach  a  deeper  and  nobler  life.  It 
is  no  more  wonderful  that  a  bad  man,  one  who  dis- 
believes in  God  and  therefore  in  goodness,  should  be 
happy  than  that  a  good  man  should  be  happy,  the 
happiness  being  God's  appointed  means  for  both  to 
reach  a  higher  life.  The  main  element  of  this  higher 
life  is  vigour,  but  not  of  the  body.  The  Divine  purpose 
is  spiritual  evolution.    That  gratification  of  the  sensuous 


13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOUS  HAND.  59 

side  of  our  nature  for  which  physical  health  and  a 
well-knit  organism  are  indispensable — paramount  in 
the  pleasure-philosophy — is  not  neglected,  but  is  made 
subordinate  in  the  Divine  culture  of  Ufe.  The  grace  of 
God  aims  at  the  life  of  the  spirit — power  to  love,  to 
follow  righteousness,  to  dare  for  justice'  sake,  to  seek 
and  grasp  the  true,  to  sympathise  with  men  and  bear 
with  them,  to  bless  them  that  curse,  to  suffer  and  be 
strong.  To  promote  this  vitality  all  God  appoints  is 
fitted — pain  as  well  as  pleasure,  adversity  as  well  as 
prosperity,  sorrow  as  well  as  joy,  defeat  as  well  as 
success.  We  wonder  that  suffering  is  so  often  the 
result  of  imprudence.  On  the  ordinary  theory  the  fact 
is  inexplicable,  for  imprudence  has  no  dark  colour  of 
ethical  faultiness.  He  who  by  an  error  of  judgment 
plunges  himself  and  his  family  into  what  appears 
irretrievable  disaster,  may,  by  all  reckoning,  be  almost 
blameless  in  character.  If  suffering  is  held  to  be  penal, 
no  reference  to  the  general  sin  of  humanity  will  account 
for  the  result.  But  the  reason  is  plain.  The  suffering 
is  disciplinary.  The  nobler  life  at  which  Divine  provi- 
dence aims  must  be  sagacious  no  less  than  pure,  guided 
by  sound  reason  no  less  than  right  feeling. 

And  if  it  is  asked  how  from  this  point  of  view  we 
are  to  find  the  punishment  of  sin,  the  answer  is  that 
happiness  as  well  as  suffering  is  punishment  to  him 
whose  sin  and  the  unbelief  that  accompanies  it  pervert 
his  view  of  truth,  and  blind  him  to  the  spiritual  life 
and  the  will  of. God.  The  pleasures  of  a  wrong-doer 
who  persistently  denies  obligation  to  Divine  authority 
and  refuses  obedience  to  the  Divine  law  are  no  gain, 
but  loss.  They  dissipate  and  attenuate  his  life.  His 
sensuous  or  sensual  enjoyment,  his  delight  in  selfish 
triumph  and  gratified  ambition  are  real,   give  at   the 


6o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


time  quite  as  much  happiness  as  the  good  man  has  in 
his  obedience  and  virtue,  perhaps  a  great  deal  more. 
But  they  are  penal  and  retributive  nevertheless  ;  and 
the  conviction  that  they  are  so  becomes  clear  to  the 
man  whenever  the  light  of  truth  is  flashed  upon  his 
spiritual  state.  We  read  Dante's  pictures  of  the  Inferno, 
and  shudder  at  the  dreadful  scenes  with  which  he  has 
filled  the  descending  circles  of  woe.  He  has  omitted 
one  that  would  have  been  the  most  striking  of  all, — 
unless  indeed  an  approach  to  it  is  to  be  found  in  the 
episode  of  Paolo  and  Francesca, — the  picture  of  souls 
self-doomed  to  seek  happiness  and  to  enjoy,  on  whose 
life  the  keen  light  of  eternity  shines,  revealing  the 
gradual  wasting  away  of  existence,  the  certain  degenera- 
tion to  which  they  are  condemned. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  pains  and  disasters  which 
fall  to  the  lot  of  evil  men,  intended  for  their  correction, 
if  in  perversity  or  in  blindness  they  are  misunderstood, 
again  become  punishment ;  for  they,  too,  dissipate  and 
attenuate  life.  The  real  good  of , existence  slips  away 
while  the  mind  is  intent  on  the  mere  pain  or  vexation 
and  how  it  is  to  be  got  rid  of  In  Job  we  find  a 
purpose  to  reconcile  affliction  with  the  just  government 
of  God.  The  troubles  into  which  the  believing  man  is 
brought  urge  him  to  think  more  deeply  than  he  has 
ever  thought,  become  the  means  of  that  intellectual  and 
moral  education  which  lies  in  discovery  of  the  will  and 
character  of  God.  They  also  bring  him  by  this  way 
into  deeper  humility,  a  fine  tenderness  of  spiritual 
nature,  a  most  needful  kinship  with  his  fellows.  See 
then  the  use  of  suffering.  The  impenitent,  unbelieving 
man  has  no  such  gains.  He  is  absorbed  in  the  dis- 
tressing experience,  and  that  absorption  narrows  and 
debases    the   activity  of  the  soul.     The   treatment  of 


i.  13-22.].         THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  6i 

this  matter  here  is  necessarily  brief.     It  is  hoped,  how- 
ever, that  the  principle  has  been  made  clear. 

Does  it  require  any  adaptation  or  under-reading  of 
the  language  of  Scripture  to  prove  the  harmony  of  its 
teaching  with  the  view  just  given  of  happiness  and 
suffering  as  related  to  punishment  ?  Throughout  the 
greater  part  of  the  Old  Testament  the  doctrine  of 
suffering  is  that  old  doctrine  which  the  author  of 
Job  found  perplexing.  Not  infrequently  in  the  New 
Testament  there  is  a  certain  formal  return  to  it ;  for 
even  under  the  light  of  revelation  the  meaning  of 
Divine  providence  is  learnt  slowly.  But  the  emphasis 
rests  on  life  rather  than  happiness,  and  on  death  rather 
than  suffering  in  the  gospels ;  and  the  whole  teach- 
ing of  Christ,  pointed  to  the  truth.  This  world  and 
our  discipline  here,  the  trials  of  men,  the  doctrine 
of  the  cross,  the  fellowship  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ, 
are  not  fitted  to  introduce  us  into  a  state  of  existence 
in  which  mere  enjoyment,  the  gratification  of  personal 
tastes  and  desires,  shall  be  the  main  experience.  They 
are  fitted  to  educate  the  spiritual  nature  for  fife,  fulness 
of  life.  Immortality  becomes  credible  when  it  is  seen 
as  progress  in  vigour,  progress  towards  that  profound 
compassion,  that  fidelity,  that  unquenchable  devotion 
to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father  which  marked  the  life 
of  the  Divine  Son  in  this  world. 

Observe,  it  is  not  denied  that  joy  is  and  will  be 
desired,  that  suffering  and  pain  are  and  will  remain 
experiences  from  which  human  nature  must  recoil. 
The  desire  and  the  aversion  are  wrought  into  our 
constitution  ;  and  just  because  we  feel  them  our  whole 
mortal  discipline  has  its  value.  In  the  experience  of 
them  lies  the  condition  of  progress.  On  the  one  hand 
pain  urges,  on  the  other  joy  attracts.     It  is  in  the  fine 


62  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

of  desire  for  joy  of  a  finer  and  higher  kind  that  civilisa- 
tion realises  itself,  and  even  religion  lays  hold  of  us 
and  lures  us  on.  But  the  conditions  of  progress  are 
not  to  be  mistaken  for  the  end  of  it.  Joy  assumes 
sorrow  as  a  possibility.  Pleasure  can  only  exist  as 
alternative  to  the  experience  of  pain.  And  the  life 
that  expands  and  reaches  finer  power  and  exaltation 
in  the  course  of  this  struggle  is  the  main  thing.  The 
struggle  ceases  to  be  acute  in  the  higher  ranges  of  life ; 
it  becomes  massive,  sustained,  and  is  carried  on  in  the 
perfect  peace  of  the  soul.  Therefore  the  future  state 
of  the  redeemed  is  a  state  of  blessedness.  But  the 
blessedness  accompanying  the  life  is  not  the  glory. 
The  glory  of  the  perfected  is  life  itself  The  heaven  of 
the  redeemed  appears  a  region  of  existence  in  which 
the  exaltation,  enlargement,  and  deepening  of  life  shall 
constantly  and  consciously  go  on.  Conversely  the  hell 
of  evil-doers  will  not  be  simply  the  pain,  the  suffering, 
the  defeat  to  which  they  have  doomed  themselves,  but  the 
constant  attenuation  of  their  life,  the  miserable  wasting 
of  which  they  shall  be  aware,  though  they  find  some  piti- 
ful pleasure,  as  Milton  imagined  his  evil  angels  finding 
theirs,  in  futile  schemes  of  revenge  against  the  Highest. 
Pain  is  not  in  itself  an  evil.  But  our  nature  recoils 
from  suffering  and  seeks  fife  in  brightness  and  power, 
beyond  the  keen  pangs  of  mortal  existence.  The 
creation  hopes  that  itself  '*  shall  be  delivered  from  the 
bondage  of  corruption."  The  finer  life  is,  the  more 
sensible  it  must  be  of  association  with  a  body  doomed 
to  decay,  the  more  sensible  also  of  that  gross  human 
injustice  and  wrong  which  dare  to  pervert  God's 
ordinance  of  pain  and  His  sacrament  of  death,  usurp- 
ing His  holy  prerogative  for  the  most  unholy  ends. 
And  so  we  are  brought  to  the  Cross  of  Christ     When 


i.  13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF    GOD'S   HAND.  63 

He  ^'  bore  our  sins  in  His  own  body  to  the  tree,"  when 
He  "suffered  for  sins  once,  the  Righteous  for  the 
unrighteous,"  the  sacrifice  was  real,  awful,  immeasur- 
ably profound.  Yet,  could  death  be  in  any  sense 
degrading  or  debasing  to  Him  ?  Could  evil  touch  His 
soul  ?  Over  its  most  insolent  assumption  of  the  right 
to  injure  and  destroy  He  stood,  spiritually  victorious  in 
the  presence  of  His  enemies,  and  rose,  untouched  in  soul, 
when  His  body  was  broken  on  the  corss.  His  sacrifice 
was  great  because  He  bore  the  sins  of  men  and  died  as 
God's  atonement.  His  sublime  devotion  to,  the  Father 
whose  holy  law  was  trampled  under  foot.  His  horror 
and  endurance  of  human  iniquity  which  culminated  in 
His  death,  made  the  experience  profoundly  terrible. 
Thus  the  spiritual  dignity  and  power  He  gained  pro- 
vided new  life  for  the  world. 

It  is  now  possible  to  understand  the  trials  of  Job. 
So  far  as  the  sufferer  is  concerned,  they  are  no  less 
beneficent  than  His  joys ;  for  they  provide  that  neces- 
sary element  of  probation  by  which  life  of  a  deeper 
and  stronger  kind  is  to  be  reached,  the  opportunity 
of  becoming,  as  a  man  and  a  servant  of  the  Almighty, 
what  he  had  never  been,  what  otherwise  he  could  not 
become.  The  purpose  of  God  is  entirely  good ;  but  it 
will  remain  with  the  sufferer  himself  to  enter  by  the 
fiery  way  into  full  spiritual  vigour.  He  will  have  the 
protection  and  grace  of  the  Divine  Spirit  in  his  time  of 
sore  bewilderment  and  anguish.  Yet  his  own  faith 
must  be  vindicated  while  the  shadow  of  God's  hand 
rests  upon  his  life. 

And  now  the  forces  of  nature  and  the  wild  tribes 
of  the  desert  gather  about  the  happy  settlement  of  the 
man  of  Uz.     With  dramatic  suddenness  and  cumulative 


64  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

terror  stroke  after  stroke  descends.  Job  is  seen  before 
the  door  of  his  dwelling.  The  morning  broke  calm  and 
cloudless,  the  bright  sunshine  of  Arabia  filling  with 
brilliant  colour  the  far  horizon.  The  day  has  been 
peaceful,  gracious,  another  of  God's  gifts.  Perhaps,  in 
the  early  hours,  the  father,  as  priest  of  his  family, 
offered  the  burnt-offerings  of  atonement  lest  his  sons 
should  have  renounced  God  in  their  hearts  ;  and  now, 
in  the  evening,  he  is  sitting  calm  and  glad,  hearing  the 
appeals  of  those  who  need  his  help  and  dispensing  alms 
with  a  generous  hand.  But  one  comes  in  haste,  breath- 
less with  running,  scarcely  able  to  tell  his  tale.  Out 
in  the  fields  the  oxen  were  ploughing  and  the  asses 
feeding.  Suddenly  a  great  band  of  Sabeans  fell  upon 
them,  swept  them  awa}',  slew  the  servants  with  the 
edge  of  the  sword  :  this  man  alone  has  escaped  with 
his  life.  Rapidly  has  he  spoken ;  and  before  he  has 
done  another  appears,  a  shepherd  from  the  more  distant 
pastures,  to  announce  a  second  calamity.  "  The  fire  of 
God  is  fallen  from  heaven,  and  hath  burned  up  the  sheep, 
and  the  servants,  and  consumed  them  ;  and  I  only  am 
escaped  to  tell  thee."  The}^  scarcely  dare  to  look  on 
the  face  of  Job,  and  he  has  no  time  to  speak,  for  here  is 
a  third  messenger,  a  camel-driver,  swarthy  and  naked  to 
the  loins,  crying  wildly  as  he  runs.  The  Chaldseans  made 
three  bands — fell  upon  the  camels — swept  them  away — 
the  servants  are  slain — I  only  am  left.  Nor  is  this  the 
last.  A  fourth,  with  every  mark  of  horror  in  his  face, 
comes  slowly  and  brings  the  most  terrible  message  of  all. 
The  sons  and  daughters  of  Job  were  feasting  in  their 
eldest  brother's  house ;  there  came  a  great  wind  from 
the  wilderness  and  smote  the  four  corners  of  the  house, 
and  it  fell.  The  young  men  and  wom^en  are  all  dead. 
One  only  has  escaped,  he  who  tells  the  dreadful  tale. 


1.13-22.]  THE  SHADOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND.  65 

A  certain  idealism  appears  in  the  causes  of  the 
different  calamities  and  their  simultaneous,  or  almost 
simultaneous,  occurrence.  Nothing,  indeed,  is  assumed 
which  is  not  possible  in  the  north  of  Arabia.  A  raid 
from  the  south,  of  Sabeans,  the  lawless  part  of  a  nation 
otherwise  engaged  in  traffic ;  an  organised  attack  by 
Chaldseans  from  the  east,  again  the  lawless  fringe  of 
the  population  of  the  Euphrates  valley,  those  who,  in- 
habiting the  margin  of  the  desert,  had  taken  to  desert 
ways  ;  then,  of  natural  causes,  the  lightning  or  the 
fearful  hot  wind  which  coming  suddenly  stifles  and 
kills,  and  the  whirlwind,  possible  enough  after  a  thunder- 
storm or  simoom, — all  of  these  belong  to  the  region  in 
which  Job  lived.  But  the  grouping  of  the  disasters 
and  the  invariable  escape  of  one  only  from  each  belong 
to  the  dramatic  setting,  and  are  intended  to  have  a 
cuniulative  effect.  A  sense  of  the  mysterious  is  pro- 
duced, of  supernatural  power,  discharging  bolt  after 
bolt  in  some  inscrutable  mood  of  antagonism.  Job  is 
a  mark  for  the  arrows  of  the  Unseen.  And  when  the 
last  messenger  has  spoken,  we  turn  in  dismay  and  pity 
to  look  on  the  rich  man  made  poor,  the  proud  and 
happy  father  made  childless,  the  fearer  of  God  on 
whom  the  enemy  seems  to  have  wrought  his  will. 

In  the  stately  Oriental  way,  as  a  man  who  bows  to 
fate  or  the  irresistible  will  of  the  Most  High,  Job  seeks 
to  realise  his  sudden  and  awful  deprivations.  We 
watch  him  with  silent  awe  as  first  he  rends  his  mantle, 
the  acknowledged  sign  of  mourning  and  of  the  dis- 
organisation of  life,  then  shaves  his  head,  renouncing 
in  his  grief  even  the  natural  ornament  of  the  hair,  that 
the  sense  of  loss  and  resignation  may  be  indicated. 
This  done,  in  deep  humiliation  he  bows  and  falls  prone 
on  the  earth  and  worships,  the  fit  words  falling  in  a 

5 


66  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


kind  of  solemn  chant  from  his  lips:  "Naked  came  I 
forth  from  my  mother's  womb,  and  naked  I  return 
thereto.  Jehovah  gave,  and  Jehovah  hath  taken  away. 
Let  Jehovah's  name  be  blessed."  The  silence  of  grief 
and  of  death  has  fallen  about  him.  No  more  shall  be 
heard  the  bustle  of  the  homestead  to  which,  when  the 
evening  shadows  were  about  to  fall,  a  constant  stream 
of  servants  and  laden  oxen  used  to  come,  where  the 
noise  of  cattle  and  asses  and  the  shouts  of  camel- 
drivers  made  the  music  of  prosperity.  His  wife  and 
the  few  who  remain,  with  bowed  heads,  dumb  and 
aimless,  stand  around.  Swiftly  the  sun  goes  down,  and 
darkness  falls  upon  the  desolate  dwelling. 

Losses  like  these  are  apt  to  leave  men  distracted. 
When  everything  is  swept  away,  with  the  riches  those 
who  were  to  inherit  them,  when  a  man  is  left,  as  Job 
says,  naked,  bereft  of  all  that  labour  had  won  and  the 
bounty  of  God  had  given,  expressions  of  despair  do  not 
surprise  us,  nor  even  wild  accusations  of  the  Most  High. 
But  the  faith  of  this  sufferer  does  not  yield.  He  is 
resigned,  submissive.  The  strong  trust  that  has  grown 
in  the  course  of  a  religious  life  withstands  the  shock, 
and  carries  the  soul  through  the  crisis.  Neither  did 
Job  accuse  God  nor  did  he  sin,  though  his  grief  was  great. 
So  far  he  is  master  of  his  soul,  unbroken  though  deso- 
lated. The  first  great  round  of  trial  has  left  the  man  a 
believer  still. 


V. 

THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH. 
Chap.  ii. 

AS  the  drama  proceeds  to  unfold  the  conflict  between 
Divine  grace  in  the  human  soul  and  those  chaotic 
influences  which  hold  the  mind  in  doubt  or  drag  it  back 
into  denial,  Job  becomes  a  type  of  the  righteous 
sufferer,  the  servant  of  God  in  the  hot  furnace  of  afQic- 
tion.  All  true  poetry  runs  thus  into  the  typical.  The 
interest  of  the  movement  depends  on  the  representative 
character  of  the  life,  passionate  in  jealousy,  indignation, 
grief,  or  ambition,  pressing  on  exultantly  to  unheard-of 
success,  borne  down  into  the  deepest  circles  of  woe. 
Here  it  is  not  simply  a  man's  constancy  that  has  to  be 
established,  but  God's  truth  against  the  Adversary's 
lie,  the  ''  everlasting  yea  "  against  the  negations  that 
make  all  life  and  virtue  seem  the  mere  blossoming  of 
dust.  Job  has  to  pass  through  profoundest  trouble, 
that  the  drama  may  exhaust  the  possibilities  of  doubt, 
and  lead  the  faith  of  man  towards  liberty. 

Yet  the  typical  is  based  on  the  real ;  and  the  conflict 
here  described  has  gone  on  first  in  the  experience  of 
the  author.  Not  from  the  outside,  but  from  his  own 
life  has  he  painted  the  sorrows  and  struggles  of  a  soul 
urged  to  the  brink  of  that  precipice  beyond  which  lies 
the  blank  darkness  of  the  abyss.     There  are  men  in 

67 


68  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

whom  the  sorrows  of  a  whole  people  and  of  a  whole 
age  seem  to  concentrate.  They  suffer  with  their  fellow- 
men  that  all  may  find  a  way  of  hope.  Not  uncon- 
sciously, but  with  the  most  vivid  sense  of  duty,  a  Divine 
necessity  brought  to  their  door,  they  must  undergo  all 
the  anguish  and  hew  a  track  through  the  dense  forest 
to  the  light  beyond.  Such  a  man  in  his  age  was  the 
writer  of  this  book.  And  when  he  now  proceeds  to  the 
second  stage  of  Job's  affliction  every  touch  appears  to 
show  that,  not  merely  in  imagination,  but  substantially 
he  endured  the  trials  which  he  paints.  It  is  his  passion 
that  strives  and  cries,  his  sorrowful  soul  that  longs  for 
death.  Imaginary,  is  this  work  of  his  ?  Nothing  so 
true,  vehement,  earnest,  can  be  imaginary.  "  Sublime 
sorrow,"  says  Carlyle,  "  sublime  reconciliation  ;  oldest 
choral  melody  as  of  the  heart  of  mankind."  But  it 
shows  more  than  "  the  seeing  eye  and  the  mildly  under- 
standing heart."  It  reveals  the  spirit  battling  with 
terrible  enemies,  doubts  that  spring  out  of  the  darkness 
of  error,  brood  of  the  primaeval  chaos.  The  man  was 
one  who  "in  this  wild  elemient  of  a  life  had  to  struggle 
onwards  ;  now  fallen,  deep  abased;  and  ever  with  tears, 
repentance,  with  bleeding  heart,  rise  again,  struggle 
again,  still  onwards."  Not  to  this  writer,  any  more 
than  to  the  author  of  ''  Sartor  Resartus,"  did  anything 
come  in  his  dreams. 

A  second  scene  in  heaven  is  presented  to  our  view. 
The  Satan  appears  as  before  with  the  "sons  of  the 
Elohim,"  is  asked  by  the  Most  High  whence  he  has 
come,  and  replies  in  the  language  previously  used. 
Again  he  has  been  abroad  amongst  men  in  his  restless 
search  for  evil.  The  challenge  of  God  to  the  Adversary 
regarding  Job  is  also  repeated ;  but  now  it  has  an 
addition  :  "  Still  he  holdeth  fast  his  integrity,  although 


ii,]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  69 

thou  movedst  me  against  him,  to  destroy  him  without 
cause."  The  expression  "  although  thou  movedst  me 
against  him  "  is  startling.  Is  it  an  admission  after  all 
that  the  Almighty  can  be  moved  by  any  consideration 
less  than  pure  right,  or  to  act  in  any  way  to  the  dis- 
advantage or  hurt  of  His  servant?  Such  an  interpre- 
tation would  exclude  the  idea  of  supreme  power, 
wisdom,  and  righteousness  which  unquestionably 
governs  the  book  from  first  to  last.  The  words  really 
imply  a  charge  against  the  Adversary  of  malicious 
untruth.  The  saying  of  the  Almighty  is  ironical,  as 
Schultens  points  out  :  ''  Although  thou,  forsooth,  didst 
incite  Me  against  him."  He  who  flings  sharp  javelins 
of  detraction  is  pierced  with  a  sharper  javelin  of 
judgment.  Yet  he  goes  on  with  his  attempt  to  ruin 
Job,  and  prove  his  own  penetration  the  keenest  in  the 
universe. 

And  now  he  pleads  that  it  is  the  way  of  men  to 
care  more  for  themselves,  their  own  health  and  comfort, 
than  for  anything  else.  Bereavement  and  poverty  may 
be  like  arrows  that  glance  off  from  polished  armour. 
Let  disease  and  bodily  pain  attack  himself,  and  a  man 
will  show  what  is  really  in  his  heart.  "  Skin  for  skin, 
yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  himself.  But 
put  forth  Thine  hand  now,  and  touch  hi^  bone  and  his 
flesh,  and  he  will  renounce  Thee  openly." 

The  proverb  put  into  Satan's  mouth  carries  a  plain 
enough  meaning,  and  yet  is  not  literally  easy  to 
interpret.  The  sense  will  be  clear  if  we  translate  it 
*'  Hide  for  skin,  yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give 
for  himself."  The  hide  of  an  animal,  lion  or  sheep, 
which  a  man  wears  for  clothing  will  be  given  up  to 
save  his  own  body.  A  valued  article  of  property  often, 
it  will  be  promptly  renounced  when  life  is  in  danger ; 


70  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

the  man  will  flee  away  naked.  In  like  manner  all 
possessions  will  be  abandoned  to  keep  one's  self 
unharmed.  True  enough  in  a  sense,  true  enough  to 
be  used  as  a  proverb,  for  proverbs  often  express  a 
generalisation  of  the  earthly  prudence  not  of  the 
higher  ideal,  the  saying,  nevertheless,  is  in  Satan's 
use  of  it  a  lie — that  is,  if  he  includes  the  children  when 
he  says,  "all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  himself." 
Job  would  have  died  for  his  children.  Many  a  father 
and  mother,  with  far  less  pride  in  their  children  than 
Job  had  in  his,  would  die  for  them.  Possessions 
indeed,  mere  worldly  gear,  find  their  real  value  or 
worthlessness  when  weighed  against  life,  and  human 
love  has  Divine  depths  which  a  sneering  devil  cannot 
see.  The  portraiture  of  soulless  human  beings  is  one 
of  the  recent  experiments  in  fictitious  literature,  and 
it  may  have  some  justification.  When  the  design  is  to 
show  the  dreadful  issue  of  unmitigated  selfishness, 
a  distinctly  moral  purpose.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
"  art  for  art's  sake  "  is  the  plea,  and  the  writer's  skill 
in  painting  the  vacant  ribs  of  death  is  used  with  a  sinister 
reflection  on  human  nature  as  a  whole,  the  approach 
to  Satan's  temper  marks  the  degradation  of  literature. 
Christian  faith  clings  to  the  hope  that  Divine  grace 
may  create  a  soul  in  the  ghastly  skeleton.  The 
Adversary  gloats  over  the  lifeless  picture  of  his  own 
imagining  and  affirms  that  man  can  never  be  animated 
by  the  love  of  God.  The  problem  which  the  Satan  of 
Job  long  ago  presented  haunts  the  mind  of  our  age. 
It  is  one  of  those  ominous  symptoms  that  point  to 
times  of  trial  in  which  the  experience  of  humanity  may 
resemble  the  typical  affliction  and  desperate  struggle 
of  the  man  of  Uz. 

A  grim  possibility  of  truth  lies  in  the  taunt  of  Satan 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  71 

that,  if  Job's  flesh  and  bone  are  touched,  he  will 
renounce  God  openly.  The  test  of  sore  disease  is 
more  trying  than  loss  of  wealth  at  least.  And,  besides, 
bodily  afQiction,  added  to  the  rest,  will  carry  Job  into 
yet  another  region  of  vital  experience.  Therefore  it  is 
the  will  of  God  to  send  it.  Again  Satan  is  the  instru- 
ment, and  the  permission  is  given,  '*  Behold,  he  is  in 
thine  hand  :  only  save  his  life — imperil  not  his  life." 
Here,  as  before,  when  causes  are  to  be  brought  into 
operation  that  are  obscure  and  may  appear  to  involve 
harshness,  the  Adversary  is  the  intermediary  agent. 
On  the  face  of  the  drama  a  certain  formal  deference 
is  paid  to  the  opinion  that  God  cannot  inflict  pain  on 
those  whom  He  loves.  But  for  a  short  time  only  is 
the  responsibility,  so  to  speak,  of  afflicting  Job  partly 
removed  from  the  Almighty  to  Satan.  At  this  point 
the  Adversary  disappears ;  and  henceforth  God  is 
acknowledged  to  have  sent  the  disease  as  well  as  all 
the  other  afQictions  to  His  servant.  It  is  only  in  a 
poetic  sense  that  Satan  is  represented  as  wielding 
natural  forces  and  sowing  the  seeds  of  disease  ;  the 
writer  has  no  theory  and  needs  no  theory  of  malignant 
activity.     He  knows  that  "  all  is  of  God.'' 

Time  has  passed  sufficient  for  the  realisation  by  Job 
of  his  poverty  and  bereavement.  The  sense  of  desola- 
tion has  settled  on  his  soul  as  morning  after  morning 
dawned,  week  after  week  went  by,  emptied  of  the 
loving  voices  he  used  to  hear,  and  the  delightful 
and  honourable  tasks  that  used  to  engage  him.  In 
sympathy  with  the  exhausted  mind,  the  body  has 
become  languid,  and  the  change  from  sufficiency  of 
the  best  food  to  something  hke  starvation  gives  the 
germs  of  disease  an  easy  hold.  He  is  stricken  with 
elephantiasis,  one  of  the  most  terrible  forms  of  leprosy. 


72  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


a  tedious  malady  attended  with  intolerable  irritation 
and  loathsome  ulcers.  The  disfigured  face,  the  black- 
ened body,  soon  reveal  the  nature  of  the  infection ;  and 
he  is  forthwith  carried  out  according  to  the  invariable 
custom  and  laid  on  the  heap  of  refuse,  chiefly  burnt 
litter,  which  has  accumulated  near  his  dwelling.  In 
Arab  villages  this  mezbele  is  often  a  mound  of  consider- 
able size,  where,  if  any  breath  of  wind  is  blowing,  the 
full  benefit  of  its  coolness  can  be  enjoyed.  It  is  the 
common  playground  of  the  children,  "and  there  the 
outcast,  who  has  been  stricken  with  some  loathsome 
malady,  and  is  not  allowed  to  enter  the  dwellings  of 
men,  lays  himself  down,  begging  an  alms  of  the 
passers-by,  by  day,  and  by  night  sheltering  himself 
among  the  ashes  which  the  heat  of  the  sun  has 
warmed."  At  the  beginning  Job  was  seen  in  the  full 
stateliness  of  Oriental  life  ;  now  the  contrasting  misery 
of  it  appears,  the  abjectness  into  which  it  may  rapidly 
fall.  Without  proper  medical  skill  or  appliances,  the 
houses  no  way  adapted  for  a  case  of  disease  like  Job's, 
the  wealthiest  pass  like  the  poorest  into  what  appears 
the  nadir  of  existence.  Now  at  length  the  trial  of 
faithfulness  is  in  the  way  of  being  perfected.  If  the 
helplessness,  the  torment  of  disease,  the  misery  of  this 
abject  state  do  not  move  his  mind  from  its  trust  in 
God,  he  will  indeed  be  a  bulwark  of  religion  against 
the  atheism  of  the  world. 

But  in  what  form  does  the  question  of  Job's  con- 
tinued fidelity  present  itself  now  to  the  mind  of  the 
writer  ?  Singularly,  as  a  question  regarding  his 
integrity.  From  the  general  wreck  one  life  has  been 
spared,  that  of  Job's  wife.  To  her  it  appears  that  the 
wrath  of  the  Almighty  has  been  launched  against  her 
husband,  and  all  that  prevents  him  from  finding  refuge 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  73 

in  death  from  the  horrors  of  lingering  disease  is  his 
integrity.  If  he  maintains  the  pious  resignation  he 
showed  under  the  first  afQictions  and  during  the  early 
stages  of  his  malady,  he  will  have  to  suffer  on.  But 
it  will  be  better  to  die  at  once.  "  Why,"  she  asks, 
"dost  thou  still  hold  fast  thine  integrity?  Renounce 
God,  and  die."  It  is  a  different  note  from  that  which 
runs  through  the  controversy  between  Job  and  his 
friends.  Always  on  his  integrity  he  takes  his  stand ; 
against  his  right  to  affirm  it  they  direct  their  argu- 
ments. They  do  not  insist  on  the  duty  of  a  man 
under  all  circumstances  to  believe  in  God  and  submit 
to  His  will.  Their  sole  concern  is  to  prove  that  Job 
has  not  been  sincere  and  faithful  and  deserving  of 
acceptance  before  God.  But  his  wife  knows  him  to 
have  been  righteous  and  pious ;  and  that,  she  thinks, 
will  serve  him  no  longer.  Let  him  abandon  his  in- 
tegrity ;  renounce  God.  On  two  sides  the  sufferer  is 
plied.  But  he  does  not  waver.  Between  the  two  he 
stands,  a  man  who  has  integrity  and  will  keep  it  till 
he  die. 

The  accusations  of  Satan,  turning  on  the  question 
whether  Job  was  sincere  in  religion  or  one  who  served 
God  for  what  he  got,  prepare  us  to  understand  why 
his  integrity  is  made  the  hinge  of  the  debate.  To  Job 
his  upright  obedience  was  the  heart  of  his  life,  and  it 
alone  made  his  indefeasible  clajm  on  God.  But  faith, 
not  obedience,  is  the  only  real  claim  a  man  can  advance. 
And  the  connection  is  to  be  found  in  this  way.  As 
a  man  perfect  and  upright,  who  feared  God  and 
eschewed  evil.  Job  enjoyed  the  approval  of  his  con- 
science and  the  sense  of  Divine  favour.  His  life  had 
been  rooted  in  the  steady  assurance  that  the  Almighty 
was  his  friend.     He  had  walked  in  freedom  and  joy 


74  .      THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

cared  for  by  the  providence  of  the  Eternal,  guarded  by 
His  love,  his  soul  at  peace  with  that  Divine  Lawgiver 
whose  will  he  did.  His  faith  rested  like  an  arch  on 
two  piers — one,  his  own  righteousness  which  God  had 
inspired  ;  the  other,  the  righteousness  of  God  which 
his  own  reflected.  If  it  were  proved  that  he  had  not 
been  righteous,  his  belief  that  God  had  been  guarding 
him,  teaching  him,  filling  his  soul  with  light,  would 
break  under  him  like  a  withered  branch.  If  he  had 
not  been  righteous  indeed,  he  could  not  know  what 
righteousness  is,  he  could  not  know  whether  God  is 
righteous  or  not,  he  could  not  know  God  nor  trust  in 
Him.  The  experience  of  the  past  was,  in  this  case, 
a  delusion.  He  had  nothing  to  rest  upon,  no  faith. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  those  afflictions,  coming  why  he 
could  not  tell,  proved  God  to  be  capricious,  unjust, 
all  would  equally  be  lost.  The  dilemma  was  that, 
holding  to  the  belief  in  his  own  integrity,  he  seemed 
to  be  driven  to  doubt  God  ;  but  if  he  believed  God  to 
be  righteous  he  seemed  to  be  driven  to  doubt  his  own 
integrity.  Either  was  fatal.  He  was  in  a  narrow 
strait  between  two  rocks,  on  one  or  other  of  which 
faith  was  like  to  be  shattered. 

But  his  integrity  was  clear  to  him.  That  stood 
within  the  region  of  his  own  consciousness.  He  knew 
that  God  had  made  him  of  dutiful  heart  and  given  him 
a  constant  will  to  be  obedient.  Only  while  he  believed 
this  could  he  keep  hold  of  his  life.  As  the  one  treasure 
saved  out  of  the  wreck,  when  possessions,  children, 
health  were  gone,  to  cherish  his  integrity  was  the  last 
duty.  Renounce  his  conscience  of  goodwill  and  faith- 
fulness ?  It  was  the  one  fact  bridging  the  gulf  of 
disaster,  the  safeguard  against  despair.  And  is  this 
not  a  true  presentation  of  the  ultimate  inquiry  regarding 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  75 

faith  ?  If  the  justice  we  know  is  not  an  adumbration 
of  Divine  justice,  if  the  righteousness  we  do  is  not 
taught  us  by  God,  of  the  same  kind  as  His,  if  loving 
justice  and  doing  righteousness  we  are  not  showing 
faith  in  God,  if  renouncing  all  for  the  right,  clinging 
to  it  though  the  heavens  should  fall,  we  are  not  in 
touch  with  the  Highest,  then  there  is  no  basis  for 
faith,  no  link  between  our  human  life  and  the  Eternal. 
All  must  go  if  these  deep  principles  of  morality  and 
religion  are  not  to  be  trusted.  What  a  man  knows 
of  the  just  and  good  by  clinging  to  it,  suffering  for  it, 
rejoicing  in  it,  is  indeed  the  anchor  that  keeps  him  from 
being  swept  into  the  waste  of  waters. 

The  woman's  part  in  the  controversy  is  still  to  be  con- 
sidered ;  and  it  is  but  faintly  indicated.  Upon  the  Arab 
soul  there  lay  no  sense  of  woman's  life.  Her  view  of 
providence  or  of  religion  was  never  asked.  The  writer 
probably  means  here  that  Job's  wife  would  naturally, 
as  a  woman,  complicate  the  sum  of  his  troubles.  She 
expresses  ill-considered  resentment  against  his  piety. 
To  her  he  is  "  righteous  over  much,"  and  her  counsel 
is  that  of  despair.  Was  this  all  that  the  Great  God 
whom  he  trusted  could  do  for  him  ?  Better  bid  fare- 
well to  such  a  God.  She  can  do  nothing  to  relieve  the 
dreadful  torment  and  can  see  but  the  one  possible  end. 
But  it  is  God  who  is  keeping  her  husband  alive,  and 
one  word  would  be  enough  to  set  him  free.  Her 
language  is  strangely  illogical,  meant  indeed  to  be  so, 
— a  woman's  desperate  talk.  She  does  not  see  that, 
though  Job  renounced  God,  he  might  yet  live  on,  in 
greater  misery  than  ever,  just  because  he  would  then 
have  no  spiritual  stay. 

Well,  some  have  spoken  very  strongly  about  Job's 
wife.     She  has  been  called  a  helper  of  the  Devil,  an 


76  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

organ  of  Satan,  an  infernal  fury.  Chrysostom  thinks 
that  the  Enemy  left  her  alive  because  he  deemed  her  a 
fit  scourge  to  Job  by  which  to  plague  him  more  acutely 
than  by  any  other.  Ewald,  with  more  point,  says : 
"  Nothing  can  be  more  scornful  than  her  words  which 
mean,  *  Thou,  who  under  all  the  undeserved  sufferings 
which  have  been  inflicted  on  thee  by  thy  God,  hast 
been  faithful  to  Him  even  in  fatal  sickness,  as  if  He 
would  help  or  desired  to  help  thee  who  art  beyond  help, 
— to  thee,  fool,  I  say,  Bid  God  farewell,  and  die  ! '  " 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  appears  as  the  temptress 
of  her  husband,  putting  into  speech  the  atheistic  doubt 
which  the  Adversary  could  not  directly  suggest.  And 
the  case  is  all  the  worse  for  Job  that  affection  and 
sympathy  are  beneath  her  words.  Brave  and  true 
life  appears  to  her  to  profit  nothing  if  it  has  to  be 
spent  in  pain  and  desolation.  She  does  not  seem  to 
speak  so  much  in  scorn  as  in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul. 
She  is  no  infernal  fury,  but  one  whose  love,  genuine 
enough,  does  not  enter  into  the  fellowship  of  his  suffer- 
ings. It  was  necessary  to  Job's  trial  that  the  temptation 
should  be  presented,  and  the  ignorant  affection  of  the 
woman  serves  the  needful  purpose.  She  speaks  not 
knowing  what  she  says,  not  knowing  that  her  words 
pierce  like  sharp  arrows  into  his  very  soul.  As  a 
figure  in  the  drama  she  has  her  place,  helping  to 
complete  the  round  of  trial. 

The  answer  of  Job  is  one  of  the  fine  touches  of  the 
book.  He  does  not  denounce  her  as  an  instrument  of 
Satan  nor  dismiss  her  from  his  presence.  In  the  midst 
of  his  pain  he  is  the  great  chief  of  Uz  and  the  generous 
husband.  ''Thou  speakest,"  he  mildly  says,  "as  one 
of  the  foolish,  that  is,  godless,  women  speaketh."  It  is 
not  like  thee  to  say  such  things  as  these.     And  then 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  77 

he  adds  the  question  born  of  sublime  faith,  "  Shall 
we  receive  gladness  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  shall  we 
not  receive  affliction  ?  " 

One  might  declare  this  affirmation  of  faith  so  clear 
and  decisive  that  the  trial  of  Job  as  a  servant  of  God 
might  well  close  with  it.  Earthly  good,  temporal  joy, 
abundance  of  possessions,  children,  health, — these  he 
had  received.  Now  in  poverty  and  desolation,  his  body 
wrecked  by  disease,  he  lies  tormented  and  helpless. 
Suffering  of  mind  and  physical  affliction  are  his  in 
almost  unexampled  keenness,  acute  in  themselves  and 
by  contrast  with  previous  felicity.  His  wife,  too,  instead 
of  helping  him  to  endure,  urges  him  to  dishonour  and 
death.  Still  he  does  not  doubt  that  all  is  wisely 
ordered  by  God.  He  puts  aside,  if  indeed  with  a 
strenuous  effort  of  the  soul,  that  cruel  suggestion  of 
despair,  and  affirms  anew  the  faith  which  is  supposed 
to  bind  him  to  a  life  of  torment.  Should  not  this  repel 
the  accusations  brought  against  the  religion  of  Job  and 
of  humanity  ?  The  author  does  not  think  so.  He  has 
only  prepared  the  way  for  his  great  discussion.  But 
the  stages  of  trial  already  passed  show  how  deep  and 
vital  is  the  problem  that  lies  beyond.  The  faith  which 
has  emerged  so  triumphantly  is  to  be  shaken  as  by 
the  ruin  of  the  world. 

Strangely  and  erroneously  has  a  distinction  been 
drawn  between  the  previous  afflictions  and  the  disease 
which,  it  is  said,  ''  opens  or  reveals  greater  depths  in 
Job's  reverent  piety."  One  says  :  ''  In  his  former  trial 
he  blessed  God  who  took  away  the  good  He  had  added 
to  naked  man ;  this  was  strictly  no  evil  :  now  Job 
bows  beneath  God's  hand  when  He  inflicts  positive 
evil."  Such  literalism  in  reading  the  words  "  shall  we 
not  receive  evil?"  implies  a  gross  slander  on  Job.     If 


78  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

he  had  meant  that  the  loss  of  health  was  ^'  evil  '*  as 
contrasted  with  the  loss  of  children,  that  from  his  point 
of  view  bereavement  was  no  ''  evil,"  then  indeed  he 
would  have  sinned  against  love,  and  therefore  against 
God.  It  is  the  whole  course  of  his  trial  he  is  reviewing. 
Shall  we  receive  "good" — ^joy,  prosperity,  the  love  of 
children,  years  of  physical  vigour,  and  shall  we  not 
receive  pain — this  burden  of  loss,  desolation,  bodily 
torment  ?  Herein  Job  sinned  not  with  his  lips. 
Again,  had  he  meant  moral  evil,  something  involving 
cruelty  and  unrighteousness,  he  would  have  sinned 
indeed,  his  faith  would  have  been  destroyed  by  his 
own  false  judgment  of  God.  The  words  here  must  be 
interpreted  in  harmony  with  the  distinction  already 
drawn  between  physical  and  mental  suffering,  which, 
as  God  appoints  them,  have  a  good  design,  and  moral 
evil,  which  can  in  no  way  have  its  source  in  Him. 

And  now  the  narrative  passes  into  a  new  phase. 
As  a  chief  of  Uz,  the  greatest  of  the  Bene-Kedem,  Job 
was  known  beyond  the  desert.  As  a  man  of  wisdom 
and  generosity  he  had  many  friends.  The  tidings  of 
his  disasters  and  finally  of  his  sore  malady  are  carried 
abroad  ;  and  after  months,  perhaps  (for  a  journey  across 
the  sandy  waste  needs  preparation  and  time),  three  of 
those  who  know  him  best  and  admire  him  most,  "  Job's 
three  friends,"  appear  upon  the  scene.  To  sympathise 
with  him,  to  cheer  and  comfort  him,  they  come  with  one 
accord,  each  on  his  camel,  not  unattended,  for  the  way 
is  beset  with  dangers. 

They  are  men  of  mark  all  of  them.  The  emeer  of 
Uz  has  chiefs,  no  doubt,  as  his  peculiar  friends,  although 
the  Septuagint  colours  too  much  in  calling  them  kings. 
It  is,  however,  their  piety,  their  likeness  to  himself,  as 
men  who  fear  and  serve  the  True  God,  that  binds  them 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  79 


to  Job's  heart.  They  will  contribute  what  they  can  of 
counsel  and  wise  suggestion  to  throw  light  on  his  trials 
and  lift  him  into  hope.  No  arguments  of  unbelief  or 
cowardice  will  be  used  by  them,  nor  will  they  propose 
that  a  stricken  man  should  renounce  God  and  die. 
Eliphaz  is  from  Teman,  that  centre  of  thought  and 
culture  where  men  worshipped  the  Most  High  and 
meditated  upon  His  providence.  Shuach,  the  city  of 
Bildad,  can  scarcely  be  identified  with  the  modern 
Shuwak,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  south-west 
from  the  Jauf  near  the  Red  Sea,  nor  with  the  land  of 
the  Tsukhi  of  the  Assyrian  inscriptions,  lying  on  the 
Chaldaean  frontier.  It  was  probably  a  city,  now  for- 
gotten, in  the  Idumaean  region.  Maan,  also  near 
Petra,  may  be  the  Naamah  of  Zophar.  It  is  at  least 
tempting  to  regard  all  the  three  as  neighbours  who 
might  without  great  difficulty  communicate  with  each 
other  and  arrange  a  visit  to  their  common  friend. 
From  their  meeting-place  at  Teman  or  at  Maan  they 
would,  in  that  case,  have  to  make  a  journey  of  some  two 
hundred  miles  across  one  of  the  most  barren  and 
dangerous  deserts  of  Arabia, — clear  enough  proof  of 
their  esteem  for  Job  and  their  deep  sympathy. 

The  fine  idealism  of  the  poem  is  maintained  in  this 
new  act.  Men  of  knowledge  and  standing  are  these. 
They  may  fail;  they  may  take  a  false  view  of  their 
friend  and  his  state  ;  but  their  sincerity  must  not  be 
doubted  nor  their  rank  as  thinkers.  Whether  the  three 
represent  ancient  culture,  or  rather  the  conceptions  of 
the  writer's  own  time,  is  a  question  that  may  be  variously 
answered.  The  book,  however,  is  so  full  of  life,  the 
life  of  earnest  thought  and  keen  thirst  for  truth,  that 
the  type  of  religious  belief  found  in  all  the  three  must 
have  been  familiar  to  the  author.     These  men  are  not, 


8o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

any  more  than  Job  himself,  contemporaries  of  Ephron 
the  Hittite  or  the  Balaam  of  Numbers.  They  stand 
out  as  religious  thinkers  of  a  far  later  age,  and  represent 
the  current  Rabbinism  of  the  post-Solomonic  era.  The 
characters  are  filled  in  from  a  profound  knowledge 
of  man  and  man's  life.  Yet  each  of  them,  Temanite, 
Shuchite,  Naamathite,  is  at  bottom  a  Hebrew  believer 
striving  to  make  his  creed  apply  to  a  case  not  yet 
brought  into  his  system,  and  finally,  when  every  sugges- 
tion is  repelled,  taking  refuge  in  that  hardness  of  temper 
which  is  peculiarly  Jewish.  They  are  not  men  of  straw, 
as  some  imagine,  but  types  of  the  culture  and  thought 
which  led  to  Pharisaism.  The  writer  argues  not  so 
much  with  Edom  as  with  his  own  people. 

Approaching  Job's  dwelling  the  three  friends  look 
eagerly  from  their  camels,  and  at  length  perceive  one 
prostrate,  disfigured,  lying  on  the  rnezbele,  a  miserable 
wreck  of  manhood.  ''  That  is  not  our  friend,"  they  say 
to  each  other.  Again  and  yet  again,  ^'  This  is  not  he ; 
this  surely  cannot  be  he."  Yet  nowhere  else  than  in 
the  place  of  the  forsaken  do  they  find  their  noble 
friend.  The  brave,  bright  chief  they  knew,  so  stately 
in  his  bearing,  so  abundant  and  lionourable,  how  has 
he  fallen  !  They  lift  up  their  voices  and  weep  ;  then, 
struck  into  amazed  silence,  each  with  torn  mantle 
and  dust-sprinkled  head,  for  seven  days  and  nights 
they  sit  beside  him  in  grief  unspeakable. 

Real  is  their  sympathy ;  deep  too,  as  deep  as  their 
character  and  sentiments  admit.  As  comforters  they 
are  proverbial  in  a  bad  sense.  Yet  one  says  truly, 
perhaps  out  of  bitter  experience,  "Who  that  knows 
what  most  modern  consolation  is  can  prevent  a  prayer 
that  Job's  comforters  may  be  his  ?  They  do  not  call 
upon    him    for    an    hour    and    invent    excuses  for  the 


ii.]  THE  DILEMMA    OF  FAITH.  8l 

departure  which  they  so  anxiously  await ;  they  do  not 
write  notes  to  him,  and  go  about  their  business  as 
if  nothing  had  happened;  they  do  not  inflict  upon 
him  meaningless  commonplaces."  *  It  was  their  mis- 
fortune, not  altogether  their  fault,  that  they  had  mistaken 
notions  which  they  deemed  it  their  duty  to  urge  upon 
him.  Job,  disappointed  by-and-by,  did  not  spare 
them,  and  we  feel  so  much  for  him  that  we  are  apt  to 
deny  them  their  due.  Yet  are  we  not  bound  to  ask. 
What  friend  has  had  equal  proof  of  our  sympathy  ? 
Depth  of  nature  ;  sincerity  of  friendship ;  the  will 
to  console :  let  those  mock  at  Job's  comforters  as 
wanting  here  who  have  travelled  two  hundred  miles 
over  the  burning  sand  to  visit  a  man  sunk  in  disaster, 
brought  to  poverty  and  the  gate  of  death,  and  sat  with 
him  seven  days  and  nights  in  generous  silence. 


Mark  Rutherford. 


THE   FIRST   COLLOQUY. 


VI. 

THE   CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH. 

Job  speaks.     Chap.  iii. 

WHILE  the  friends  of  Job  sat  beside  him  that 
dreary  week  of  silence,  each  of  them  was 
meditating  in  his  own  way  the  sudden  calamities  which 
had  brought  the  prosperous  emeer  to  poverty,  the 
strong  man  to  this  extremity  of  miserable  disease. 
Many  thoughts  came  and  were  dismissed  ;  but  always 
the  question  returned.  Why  these  disasters,  this  shadow 
of  dreadful  death  ?  And  for  very  compassion  and 
sorrow  each  kept  secret  the  answer  that  came  and 
came  again  and  would  not  be  rejected.  Meanwhile  the 
silence  has  weighed  upon  the  sufferer,  and  the  burden 
of  it  becomes  at  length  insupportable.  He  has  tried 
to  read  their  thoughts,  to  assure  himself  that  grief 
alone  kept  them  dumb,  that  when  they  spoke  it  would 
be  to  cheer  him  with  kindly  words,  to  praise  and 
reinvigorate  his  faith,  to  tell  him  of  Divine  help  that 
would  not  fail  him  in  life  or  death.  But  as  he  sees 
their  faces  darken  into  inquiry  first  and  then  into 
suspicion,  and  reads  ?.t  length  in  averted  looks  the 
thought  they  cannot  conceal,  when  he  comprehends 
that  the  men  he  loved  and  trusted  hold  him  to  be  a 
transgressor    and    under    the    ban    of  God,    this    final 

85 


86  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

disaster  of  false  judgment  is  overwhelming.  The  man 
whom  all  circumstances  appear  to  condemn,  who  is 
bankrupt,  solitary,  outworn  with  anxiety  and  futile 
efforts  to  prove  his  honour,  if  he  have  but  one  to. 
believe  in  him,  is  helped  to  endure  and  hope.  But 
Job  finds  human  friendship  yield  like  a  reed.  All  the 
past  is  swallowed  up  in  one  tragical  thought  that,  be 
a  man  Vv^hat  he  may,  there  is  no  refuge  for  him  in 
the  justice  of  man.  Everything  is  gone  that  made 
human  society  and  existence  in  the  world  worth  caring 
for.  His  wife,  indeed,  believes  in  his  integrity,  but 
values  it  so  little  that  she  would  have  him  cast  it 
away  with  a  taunt  against  God.  His  friends,  it  is  plain 
to  see,  deny  it.  He  is  suffering  at  God's  hand,  and 
they  are  hardened  against  him.  The  iron  enters  into 
his  soul. 

True,  it  is  the  shame  and  torment  of  his  disease  that 
move  him  to  utter  his  bitter  lamentation.  Yet  the 
underlying  cause  of  his  loss  of  self-command  and  of 
patient  confidence  in  God  must  not  be  missed.  The 
disease  has  made  life  a  physical  agony  ;  but  he  could 
bear  that  if  still  no  cloud  came  between  him  and  the 
face  of  God.  Now  these  dark,  suspicious  looks  which 
meet  him  every  time  he  lifts  his  eyes,  which  he  feels 
resting  upon  him  even  when  he  bows  his  head  in  the 
attempt  to  pray,  make  religion  seem  a  mockery.  And 
in  pitiful  anticipation  of  the  doom  to  which  they  are 
silently  driving  him,  he  cries  aloud  against  the  life  that 
remains.  He  has  lived  in  vain.  Would  he  had  never 
been  born  ! 

In  this  first  lyrical  speech  put  into  the  mouth  of  Job 
there  is  an  Oriental,  hyperbolical  strain,  suited  to  the 
speaker  and  his  circumstances.  But  we  are  also  made 
to  feel  that  calamity  and  dejection  have  gone  near  to 


iii.]  THE   CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH.  87 

unhinging  his  mind.     He  is  not  mad,  but  his  language 
is  vehement,  almost  that  of  insanity.     It  would  be  wrong, 
therefore,  to  criticise  the  words  in  a  matter-of-fact  way, 
and  against  the  spirit  of  the  book  to  try  by  the  rules 
of  Christian  resignation  one  so  tossed  and  racked,  in 
the  very  throat  of  the  furnace.     This  is  a  pious  man, 
a  patient  man,  who  lately  said,  ''  Shall  we  receive  joy  at 
the  hand  of  God,  and  shall  we  not  receive  affliction  ?  " 
He  seems  to  have  lost  all  control  of  himself  and  plunges 
into  wild   untamed   speech    filled    with    anathemas,   as 
one  who  had  never  feared  God.     But  he  is  driven  from 
self-possession.     Phantasmal  now  is  all  that  brave  life 
of  his  as  prince  and  as  father,  as  a   man  in   honour 
beloved    of  the    Highest.     Did   he  ever  enjoy  it  ?     If 
he  did,  was  it  not  as  in  a  dream  ?     Was  he  not  rather 
a  deceiver,  a  vile  transgressor  ?     His  state  befits  that. 
Light  and  love  and  life  are  turned  into  bitter  gall.      -'  I 
lived,"  says  one  distressed  like  Job,   "in  a  continual, 
indefinite,  pining  fear ;  tremulous,  pusillanimous,  appre- 
hensive of  I  knew  not  what ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  were  but  boundless  jaws  of  a  devouring 
monster  wherein  I,  palpitating,  waited  to  be  devoured. 
...  *  Man  is,  properly  speaking,  based  upon  hope,  he  has 
no  other  possession  but  hope ;  this  world  of  his  is  em- 
phatically the  Place  of  Hope.' "     We  see  Job,  "  for  the 
present,  quite  shut  out  from  hope ;  looking  not  into  the 
golden  orient,  but  vaguely  all  round  into  a  dim  firma- 
ment pregnant  with  earthquake  and  tornado." 

The  poem  may  be  read  calmly.  Let  us  remember 
that  it  came  not  calmly  from  the  pen  of  the  writer,  but 
as  the  outburst  of  volcanic  feeling  from  the  deep  centres 
of  life.  It  is  Job  we  hear;  the  language  befits  his 
despondency,  his  position  in  the  drama.  But  surely  it 
presents    to  us  a    real  experience  of  one  who,  in  the 


88  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


hour  of  Israel's  defeat  and  captivity,  had  seen  his  home 
swept  bare,  wife  and  children  seized  and  tortured  or 
borne  down  in  the  rush  of  savage  soldiery,  while  he 
himself  lived  on,  reduced  in  one  day  to  awful  memories 
and  doubts  as  the  sole  consciousness  of  life.  Is  not 
some  crisis  like  this  with  its  irretrievable  woes  translated 
for  us  here  into  the  language  of  Job's  bitter  cry?  Are 
we  not  made  witnesses  of  a  tragedy  greater  even  than 
his? 

''  What  is  to  become  of  us,"  asks  Amiel,  ''  when 
everything  leaves  us,  health,  joy,  affections,  when  the 
sun  seems  to  have  lost  its  warmth,  and  life  is  stripped 
of  all  charm  ?  Must  we  either  harden  or  forget  ? 
There  is  but  one  answer.  Keep  close  to  duty,  do  what 
you  ought,  come  w^hat  may."  The  mood  of  these 
words  is  not  so  devout  as  other  passages  of  the  same 
writer.  The  advice,  however,  is  often  tendered  in  the 
name  of  religion  to  the  life-weary  and  desolate  ;  and 
there  are  circumstances  to  which  it  well  applies.  But 
a  distracting  sense  of  impotence  weighed  down  the 
life  of  Job.  Duty  ?  He  could  do  nothing.  It  was 
impossible  to  find  relief  in  work ;  hence  the  fierceness 
of  his  words.  Nor  can  we  fail  to  hear  in  them  a 
strain  of  impatience  almost  of  anger :  ''  To  the  un- 
regenerate  Prometheus  Vinctus  of  a  man,  it  is  ever 
the  bitterest  aggravation  of  his  wretchedness  that  he 
is  conscious  of  virtue,  that  he  feels  himself  the  victim 
not  of  suffering  only,  but  of  injustice.  What  then  ? 
Is  the  heroic  inspiration  we  name  Virtue  but  some 
passion,  some  bubble  of  the  blood  ?  .  .  .  Thus  has  the 
bewildered  wanderer  to  stand,  as  so  many  have  done, 
shouting  question  after  question  into  the  sibyl  cave  of 
Destiny,  and  receive  no  answer  but.  an  echo.  It  is  all 
a  grim  desert,  this  once  fair  world  of  his." 


iii.]  THE   CRY  FROM   THE   DEPTH.  89 

Job  is  already  asserting  to  himself  the  reahty  of  his 
own  virtue,  for  he  resents  the  suspicion  of  it.  Indeed, 
with  all  the  mystery  of  his  affliction  yet  to  solve,  he 
can  but  think  that  Providence  is  also  casting  doubt 
on  him.  A  keen  sense  of  the  favour  of  God  had  been 
his.  Now  he  becomes  aware  that  while  he  is  still  the 
same  man  who  moved  about  in  gladness  and  power, 
his  life  has  a  different  look  to  others  ;  men  and  nature 
conspire  against  him.  His  once  brave  faith — the  Lord 
gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away — is  almost  overborne. 
He  does  not  renounce,  but  he  has  a  struggle  to  save 
it.  The  subtle  Divine  grace  at  his  heart  alone  keeps 
him  from  bidding  farewell  to  God. 

The  outburst  of  Job's  speech  falls  into  three  lyrical 
strophes,  the  first  ending  at  the  tenth  verse,  the  second 
at  the  nineteenth,  the  third  closing  with  the  chapter. 

L  ''Job  opened  his  mouth  and  cursed  his  day." 
In  a  kind  of  wild  impossible  revision  of  providence  and 
reopening  of  questions  long  settled,  he  assumes  the 
right  of  heaping  denunciations  on  the  day  of  his  birth. 
He  is  so  fallen,  so  distraught,  and  the  end  of  his 
existence  appears  to  have  come  in  such  profound 
disaster,  the  face  of  God  as  well  as  of  man  frowning 
on  him,  that  he  turns  savagely  on  the  only  fact  left  to 
strike  at, — his  birth  into  the  world.  But  the  whole 
strain  is  imaginative.  His  revolt  is  unreason,  not 
impiety  either  against  God  or  his  parents.  He  does 
not  lose  the  instinct  of  a  good  man,  one  who  keeps  in 
mind  the  love  of  father  and  mother  and  the  intention 
of  the  Almighty  whom  he  still  reveres.  Life  is  an 
act  of  God  :  he  would  not  have  it  marred  again  by 
infelicity  like  his  own.  So  the  day  as  an  ideal  factor 
in  history  or  cause  of  existence  is  given  up  to  chaos. 


go  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

"  That  day,  there  !     Darkness  be  it. 
Seek  it  not  the  High  God  from  above  ; 
And  no  light  stream  on  it. 
Darkness  and  the  nether  gloom-  reclaim  it. 
Encamp  over  it  the  clouds  ; 
Scare  it  blacknesses  of  the  day.'''' 

The  idea  is,  Let  the  day  of  my  birth  be  got  rid  of, 
so  that  no  other  come  into  being  on  such  a  day ;  let 
God  pass  from  it — then  He  will  not  give  life  on  that 
day.  Mingled  in  this  is  the  old  world  notion  of  days 
having  meanings  and  powers  of  their  own.  This  day 
had  proved  malign,  terribly  bad.  It  was  already  a 
chaotic  day,  not  fit  for  a  man's  birth.  Let  every 
natural  power  of  storm  and  eclipse  draw  it  back  to  the 
void.  The  night  too,  as  part  of  the  day,  comes  under 
imprecation. 

"  That  night,  there  !     Darkness  seize  it, 
Joy  have  it  none  among  the  days  of  the  year. 
Nor  com.e  into  the  nuinbering  of  months. 
See  !     That  night,  be  it  barren  ; 
No  song-voice  come  to  it : 
Ban  it,  the  cursers  of  day 
Skilful  to  stir  up  leviathan. 
Dark  be  the  stars  of  its  twilight, 
May  it  long  for  the  light^find  none, 
Nor  see  the  eyelids  of  dawn!'' 

The  vividness  here  is  from  superstition,  fancies  of 
past  generations,  old  dreams  of  a  child  race.  Foreign 
they  would  be  to  the  mind  of  Job  in  his  strength  ; 
but  in  great  disaster  the  thoughts  are  apt  to  fall  back 
on  these  levels  of  ignorance  and  dim  efforts  to  explain, 
omens  and  powers  intangible.  It  is  quite  easy  to 
follow  Job  in  this  relapse,  half  wilful,  half  for  easing 
of  his  bosom.  Throughout  Arabia,  Chaldaea,  and  India 
went  a  belief  in  evil  powers  that  might  be  invoked  to 
make  a  particular  day  one  of  misfortune.     The  leviathan 


iii.]  THE   CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH.  91 


is  the  dragon  which  was  thought  to  cause  eclipses  by 
twining  its  black  coils  about  the  sun  and  moon.  These 
vague  undertones  of  belief  ran  back  probably  to  myths 
of  the  sky  and  the  storm,  and  Job  ordinarily  must 
have  scorned  them.  Now,  for  the  time,  he  chooses 
to  make  them  serve  his  need  of  stormy  utterance. 
If  any  who  hear  him  really  believe  in  magicians 
and  their  spells,  they  are  welcome  to  gather  through 
that  belief  a  sense  of  his  condition  ;  or  if  they  choose 
to  feel  pious  horror,  they  may  be  shocked.  He  flings 
out  maledictions,  knowing  in  his  heart  that  they  are 
vain  w^ords. 

Is  it  not  something  strange  that  the  happy  past  is 
here  entirel}'  forgotten  ?  Why  has  Job  nothing  to  say 
of  the  days  that  shone  brightly  upon  him  ?  Have 
they  no  weight  in  the  balance  against  pain  and  grief? 

"The  tempest  in  my  mind 
Doth  from  my  senses  take  all  feeling  else 
Save  what  beats  there." 

His  mind  is  certainly  clouded  ;  for  it  is  not  vain  to 
say  that  piety  preserves  the  thought  of  what  God  once 
gave,  and  Job  had  himself  spoken  of  it  when  his  disease 
was  young.  At  this  point  he  is  an  example  of  what 
man  is  when  he  allows  the  water-floods  to  overflow  him 
and  the  sad  present  to  extinguish  a  brighter  past.  The 
sense  of  a  wasted  life  is  upon  him,  because  he  does 
not  yet  understand  what  the  saving  of  life  is.  To  be 
kind  to  others  and  to  be  happy  in  one's  own  kindness  is 
not  for  man  so  great  a  benefit,  so  high  a  use  of  life,  as 
to  suffer  with  others  and  for  them.  What  were  the 
life  of  our  Lord  on  earth  and  His  death  but  a  revela- 
tion to  man'  of  the  secret  he  had  never  grasped  and 
still  but  half  approves  ?     The  Book   of  Job,  a    long, 


92  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


yearning  cry  out  of  the  night,  shows  how  the  world 
needed  Christ  to  shed  His  Divine  Hght  upon  all  our 
experiences  and  unite  them  in  a  religion  of  sacrifice 
and  triumph.  The  book  moves  toward  that  reconcilia- 
tion which  only  the  Christ  can  achieve.  As  yet, 
looking  at  the  sufferer  here,  we  see  that  the  light  of 
the  future  has  not  dawned  upon  him.  Only  when  he 
is  brought  to  bay  by  the  falsehoods  of  man,  in  the 
absolute  need  of  his  soul,  will  he  boldly  anticipate  the 
redemption  and  fling  himself  for  refuge  on  a  justifying 
God. 

II.  In  the  second  strophe  cursing  is  exchanged  for 
wailing,  fruitless  reproach  of  a  long  past  day  for  a 
touching  chant  in  praise  of  the  grave.  If  his  birth 
had  to  be,  why  could  he  not  have  passed  at  once  into 
the  shades  ?  The  lament,  though  not  so  passionate,  is 
full  of  tragic  emotion.  The  phrases  of  it  have  been 
woven  into  a  modern  hymn  and  used  to  express  what 
Christians  may  feel  ;  but  they  are  pagan  in  tone,  and 
meant  by  the  writer  to  embody  the  unhopeful  thought 
of  the  race.  Here  is  no  outlook  beyond  the  inanition 
of  death,  the  oblivion  and  silence  of  the  tomb.  It  is 
not  the  extreme  of  unfaith,  but  rather  of  weakness  and 
misery. 

"  Wherefore  hastened  the  knees  to  meet  tne, 
And  tvhy  the  breasts  that  I  should  suck  ? 
For  then,  having  sunk  down,  would  I  repose, 
Fallen  asleep  there  would  be  rest  for  me. 
With  kings  and  councillors  of  the  earth 
Who  built  them  solitary  piles  ; 
Or  with  princes  ivho  had  gold, 
Who  fdlcd  their  houses  with  silver  ; 
Or  as  a  hidden  abortion  I  had  not  been. 
As  infants  who  never  saw  light. 
There  the  wicked  cease  from  raging, 
And  there  the  otitivorn  rest. 


iii.]  THE   CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH.  93 


Together  the  prisoners  arc  at  ease, 
Not  hearing  the  call  of  the  task-master. 
Small  and  great  are  there  the  satne, 
The  slave  set  free  from  his  lord.^'' 

It  is  beautiful  poetry,  and  the  images  have  a  singular 
charm  for  the  dejected  mind.  The  chief  point,  however, 
for  us  to  notice  is  the  absence  of  any  thought  of  judg- 
ment. In  the  dim  under-world,  hid  as  beneath  heavy 
clouds,  power  and  energy  are  not.  Existence  has 
fallen  to  so  low  an  ebb  that  it  scarcely  matters  whether 
men  were  good  or  bad  in  this  life,  nor  is  it  needful  to 
separate  them.  For  the  tyrant  can  do  no  more  harm 
to  the  captive,  nor  the  robber  to  his  victim.  The 
astute  .councillor  is  no  better  than  the  slave.  It  is  a 
kind  of  existence  below  the  level  of  moral  judgment, 
below  the  level  either  of  fear  or  joy.  From  the  peace- 
fulness  of  this  region  none  are  excluded  ;  as  there  will 
be  no  strength  to  do  good  there  will  be  none  to  do 
evil.  ''The  small  and  great  are  there  the  same."  The 
stillness  and  calm  of  the  dead  body  deceive  the  mind, 
willing  in  its  wretchedness  to  be  deceived. 

When  the  writer  put  this  chant  into  the  mouth  of 
Job,  he  had  in  memory  the  pyramids  of  Egypt  and 
tombs,  Hke  those  of  Petra,  carved  in  the  lonely  hills. 
The  contrast  is  thus  made  picturesque  between  the 
state  of  Job  lying  in  loathsome  disease  and  the  lot  of 
those  who  are  gathered  to  the  mighty  dead.  For 
whether  the  rich  are  buried  in  their  stately  sepulchres, 
or  the  body  of  a  slave  is  hastily  covered  with  desert 
sand,  all  enter  into  one  painless  repose.  The  whole 
purpose  of  the  passage  is  to  mark  the  extremity  of 
hopelessness,  the  mind  revelling  in  images  of  its  own 
decay.  We  are  not  meant  to  rest  in  that  love  of  death 
from  which  Job  vainly  seeks  comfort.     On  the  contrary, 


94  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

we  are  to  see  him  by-and-by  roused  to  interest  in  life 
and  its  issues.  This  is  no  halting-place  in  the  poem, 
as  it  often  is  in  human  thought.  A  great  problem  of 
Divine  righteousness  hangs  unsolved.  With  the  death 
of  the  prisoner  and  the  down-trodden  slave  whose 
worn-out  body  is  left  a  prey  to  the  vulture — with  the 
death  of  the  tyrant  whose  evil  pride  has  built  a  stately 
tomb  for  his  remains — all  is  not  ended.  Peace  has  not 
come.  Rather  has  the  unravelling  of  the  tangle  to 
begin.  The  All-righteous  has  to  make  His  inquisition 
and  deal  out  the  justice  of  eternity.  Modern  poetry,  how- 
ever, often  repeats  in  its  own  way  the  old-world  dream, 
mistaking  the  silence  and  composure  of  the  dead  face 
for  a  spiritual  deliverance  : — 

"  The  aching  craze  to  live  ends,  and  life  glides 
Lifeless — to  nameless  quiet,  nameless  joy. 
Blessed  Nirvana,  sinless,  stirless  rest, 
That  change  which  never  changes." 

To  Christianity  this  idea  is  utterly  foreign,  yet  it  mingles 
with  some  religious  teaching,  and  is  often  to  be  found 
in  the  weaker  sorts  of  rehgious  fiction  and  verse. 

III.  The  last  portion  of  Job's  address  begins  with  a 
note  of  inquiry.  He  strikes  into  eager  questioning  of 
heaven  and  earth  regarding  his  state.  What  is  he 
kept  alive  for?  He  pursues  death  with  his  longing 
as  one  goes  into  the  mountains  to  seek  treasure.  And 
again,  his  way  is  hid  ;  he  has  no  future.  God  hath 
hedged  him  in  on  this  side  by  losses,  on  that  by  grief; 
behind  a  past  mocks  him,  before  is  a  shape  which  he 
follows  and  yet  dreads. 

"  Wherefore  gives  He  light  to  wretched  fj^en, 
Life  to  the  bitter  in  soul  ? 
Who  long  for  death  ;  but  no  ! 
Search  for  it  more  than  for  treasures.^'' 


iii.]  THE  CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH.  95 

It  is  indeed  a  horrible  condition,  this  of  the  baffled 
mind  to  which  nothing  remains  but  its  own  gnawing 
thought  that  finds  neither  reason  of  being  nor  end  of 
turmoil,  that  can  neither  cease  to  question  nor  find 
answer  to  inquiries  that  rack  the  spirit.  There  is 
energy  enough,  life  enough  to  feel  life  a  terror,  and  no 
more ;  not  enough  for  any  mastery  even  of  stoical 
resolve.  The  power  of  self-consciousness  seems  to  be 
the  last  injury,  a  Nessus-shirt,  the  gift  of  a  strange 
hate.  ''The  real  agony  is  the  silence,  the  ignorance 
of  the  why  and  the  wherefore,  the  Sphinx-like  imper- 
turbability which  meets  his  prayers."  This  struggle 
for  a  light  that  will  not  come  has  been  expressed  by 
Matthew  Arnold  in  his  '' Empedocles  on  Etna,"  a  poem 
which  may  in  some  respects  be  named  a  modern 
version  of  Job  : — 

"  This  heart  will  glow  no  more  ;  thou  art 
A  living  man  no  more,  Empedocles  ! 
Nothing  but  a  devouring  flame  of  thought — 
But  a  naked  eternally  restless  mind.  .  .  . 
To  the  elements  it  came  from 
Everj'lhing  will  return — 
Our  bodies  to  earth, 
Our  blood  to  water, 
Heat  to  fire, 
Breath  to  air. 
They  were  well  born, 
They  will  be  well  entombed  — 
But  mind,  but  thought — 
Where  will  they  find  their  parent  element  ? 
What  will  receive  them,  who  will  call  them  home  ? 
But  we  shall  still  be  in  them  and  they  in  us.  .   . 
And  we  shall  be  unsatisfied  as  now  ; 
And  we  shall  feel  the  agony  of  thirst, 
The  ineffable  longing  for  the  life  of  life, 
Baffled  for  ever." 

Thought   yields    no   result;    the    outer    universe    is 


96  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

dumb  and  impenetrable.  Still  Job  would  revive  if  a 
battle  for  righteousness  offered  itself  to  him.  He  has 
never  had  to  fight  for  God  or  for  his  own  faith.  When 
the  trumpet  call  is  heard  he  will  respond  ;  but  he  is 
not  yet  aware  of  hearing  it. 

The  closing  verses  have  presented  considerable 
difficulty  to  interpreters,  who  on  the  one  hand  shrink 
from  the  supposition  that  Job  is  going  back  on  his  past 
life  of  prosperity  and  finding  there  the  origin  of  his 
fear,  and  on  the  other  hand  see  the  danger  of  leaving 
so  significant  a  passage  without  definite  meaning.  The 
Revised  Version  puts  all  the  verbs  of  the  twenty-fifth 
and  twenty-sixth  verses  into  the  present  tense,  and  Dr. 
A.  B.  Davidson  thinks  translation  into  the  past  tense 
would  give  a  meaning  *'  contrary  to  the  idea  of  the  poem." 
Now,  a  considerable  interval  had  already  elapsed  from 
the  time  of  Job's  calamities,  even  from  the  beginning 
of  his  illness,  quite  long  enough  to  allow  the  growth  of 
anxiety  and  fear  as  to  the  judgment  of  the  world. 
Job  was  not  ignorant  of  the  caprice  and  hardness  of 
men.  He  knew  how  calamity  was  interpreted ;  he  knew 
that  many  who  once  bowed  to  his  greatness  already 
heaped  scorn  upon  his  fall.  May  not  his  fear  have 
been  that  his  friends  from  beyond  the  desert  would 
furnish  the  last  and  in  some  respects  most  cutting  of 
his  sorrows  ? 

"/  have  feared  a  fear  ;  it  has  come  upon  me, 
And  that  which  I  dread  has  come  to  me. 
I  have  not  been  at  ease,  nor  quiet,  nor  have  I  had  rest ; 
Yet  trouble  has  cotne.''^ 

In  his  brooding  soul,  those  seven  days  and  nights, 
fear  has  deepened  into  certainty.  He  is  a  man  despised. 
Even  for  those  three  his  circumstances  have  proved  too 
much.     Did  he  imagine  for  a  moment  that  their  coming 


iii.]  THE   CRY  FROM   THE  DEPTH.  97 

might  relieve  the  pressure  of  his  lot  and  open  a  way 
to  the  recovery  of  his  place  among  men  ?  The  trouble 
is  deeper  than  ever ;  they  have  stirred  a  tempest  in  his 
breast. 

Note  that  in  his  whole  agony  Job  makes  no  motion 
towards  suicide.  Arnold's  Empedocles  cries  against 
life,  flings  out  his  questions  to  a  dumb  universe,  and 
then  plunges  into  the  crater  of  Etna.  Here,  as  at 
other  points,  the  inspiration  of  the  author  of  our  book 
strikes  clear  between  stoicism  and  pessimism,  defiance 
of  the  world  to  do  its  worst  and  confession  that  the 
struggle  is  too  terrible.  The  deep  sense  of  all  that  is 
tragic  in  life,  and,  with  this,  the  firm  persuasion  that 
nothing  is  appointed  to  man  but  what  he  is  able  to 
bear,  together  make  the  clear  Bible  note.  It  may 
seem  that  Job's  ejaculations  differ  Httle  from  the  cry 
out  of  the  ''  City  of  Dreadful  Night," 

"Weary  of  erring  in  this  desert,  Life, 

Weary  of  hoping  hopes  for  ever  vain, 

Weary  of  strugghng  in  all  sterile  strife, 

Weary  of  thought  which  maketh  nothing  plain, 

I  close  my  eyes  and  calm  my  panting  breath 

And  pray  to  thee,  O  ever  quiet  Death, 

To  come  and  soothe  away  my  bitter  pain." 

But  the  writer  of  the  book  knows  what  is  in  hand. 
He  has  to  show  how  far  faith  may  be  pressed  down 
and  bent  by  the  sore  burdens  of  life  without  breaking. 
He  has  to  give  us  the  sense  of  a  soul  in  the  uttermost 
depth,  that  we  may  understand  the  sublime  argument 
which  follows,  know  its  importance,  and  find  our  own 
tragedy  exhibited,  our  own  need  met,  the  personal  and 
the  universal  marching  together  to  an  issue.  Suicide 
is  no  issue  for  a  life,  any  more  than  universal 
cataclysm  for  the  evolution  of  a  world.     Despair  is  no 

7 


98  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

refuge.  The  inspired  writer  here  sees  so  far,  so  clearly, 
that  to  mention  suicide  would  be  absurd.  The  struggle 
of  life  cannot  be  renounced.  So  much  he  knows  by 
a  spiritual  instinct  which  anticipates  the  wisdom  of 
later  times.  Were  this  book  a  simple  record  of  fact, 
we  have  Job  in  a  position  far  more  trying  than  that 
of  Saul  after  his  defeat  on  Gilboa;  but  it  is  an  ideal 
prophetic  writing,  a  Divine  poem,  and  the  faith  it  is 
designed  to  commend  saves  the  man  from  interfering 
by  any  deed  of  his  with  the  will  of  God. 

We  are  prepared  for  the  vehement  controversy  that 
follows  and  the  sustained  appeal  of  the  sufferer  to 
that  Power  which  has  laid  upon  him  such  a  weight 
of  agony.  When  he  breaks  into  passionate  cries  and 
seems  to  be  falling  away  from  all  trust,  we  do  not 
despair  of  him  nor  of  the  cause  he  represents.  The 
intensity  with  which  he  longs  for  death  is  actually  a 
sign  and  measure  of  the  strong  life  that  throbs  within 
him,  which  yet  will  be  led  out  into  light  and  freedom 
and  come  to  peace  as  it  were  in  the  very  clash  of  revolt. 


VII. 

THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN. 

EUPHAZ    SPEAKS.       ChAPS.  iv,,  V. 

THE  ideas  of  sin  and  suffering  against  which  the 
poem  of  Job  was  written  come  now  dramatically 
into  view.  The  behef  of  the  three  friends  had  always 
been  that  God,  as  righteous  Governor  of  human  life, 
gives  felicity  in  proportion  to  obedience  and  appoints 
trouble  in  exact  measure  of  disobedience.  Job  him- 
self, indeed,  must  have  held  the  same  creed.  We  may 
imagine  that  while  he  was  prosperous  his  friends  had 
often  spoken  with  him  on  this  very  point.  They  had 
congratulated  him  often  on  the  wealth  and  happiness 
he  enjoyed  as  an  evidence  of  the  great  favour  of  the 
Almighty.  In  conversation  they  had  remarked  on  case 
after  case  which  seemed  to  prove,  beyond  the  shadow 
of  doubt,  that  if  men  reject  God  affliction  and  disaster 
invariably  follow.  Their  idea  of  the  scheme  of  things 
was  very  simple,  and,  on  the  whole,  it  had  never  come 
into  serious  questioning.  Of  course  human  justice, 
even  when  rudely  administered,  and  the  practice  of 
private  revenge  helped  to  fulfil  their  theory  of  Divine 
government.  If  any  serious  crime  was  committed, 
those  friendly  to  the  injured  person  took  up  his  cause 
and  pursued  the  wrong-doer  to  inflict  retribution  upon 
him.     His  dwelling  was  perhaps  burned  and  his  flocks 

99 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


dispersed,  he  himself  driven  into  a  kind  of  exile.  The 
administration  of  law  was  rude,  yet  the  unwritten 
code  of  the  desert  made  the  evil-doer  suffer  and  allowed 
the  man  of  good  character  to  enjoy  life  if  he  could. 
These  facts  went  to  sustain  the  belief  that  God  was 
always  regulating  a  man's  happiness  by  his  deserts. 
And  beyond  this,  apart  altogether  from  what  was  done 
by  men,  not  a  few  accidents  and  calamities  appeared 
to  show  Divine  judgment  against  wrong.  Then,  as 
now,  it  might  be  said  that  avenging  forces  lurk  in  the 
lightning,  the  storm,  the  pestilence,  forces  which  are 
directed  against  transgressors  and  cannot  be  evaded. 
Men  would  say.  Yes,  though  one  hide  his  crimes, 
though  he  escape  for  long  the  condemnation  and 
punishment  of  his  fellows,  yet  the  hand  of  God  will 
find  him :  and  the  prediction  seemed  always  to  be 
verified.  Perhaps  the  stroke  did  not  fall  at  once. 
Months  might  pass ;  years  might  pass ;  but  the  time 
came  when  they  could  affirm,  Now  righteousness  has 
overtaken  the  offender ;  his  crime  is  rewarded ;  his 
pride  is  brought  low.  And  if,  as  happened  occasionally, 
the  flocks  of  a  man  who  was  in  good  reputation  died 
of  murrain,  and  his  crops  were  blighted  by  the  terrible 
hot  wind  of  the  desert,  they  could  always  say,  Ah  1 
we  did  not  know  all  about  him.  No  doubt  if  we  could 
look  into  his  .private  life  we  should  see  why  this  has 
befallen.  So  the  barbarians  of  the  island  of  Melita, 
when  Paul  had  been  shipwrecked  there,  seeing  a  viper 
fasten  on  his  hand,  said,  ''  No  doubt  this  is  a  murderer 
whom,  though  he  hath  escaped  from  the  sea,  yet  justice 
suffereth  not  to  live." 

Thoughts  like  these  were  in  the  minds  of  the  three 
friends  of  Job,  very  confounding  indeed,  for  they  had 
never  expected  to  shake  their  heads  over  him.     They 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  loi 

accordingly  deserve  credit  for  true  sympathy,  inasmuch 
as  they  refrained  from  saying  anything  that  might  hurt 
him.  His  grief  was  great,  and  it  might  be  due  to  re- 
morse. His  unparalleled  afflictions  put  him,  as  it  were, 
in  sanctuary  from  taunts  or  even  questionings.  He  has 
done  wrong,  he  has  not  been  what  we  thought  him, 
they  said  to  themselves,  but  he  is  drinking  to  the  bitter 
dregs  a  cup  of  retribution. 

But  when  Job  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke,  their 
sympathy  was  dashed  with  pious  horror.  They  had 
never  in  all  their  lives  heard  such  words.  He  seemed 
to  prove  himself  far  worse  than  they  could  have 
imagined.  He  ought  to  have  been  meek  and  submis- 
sive. Some  flaw  there  must  have  been  :  what  was  it  ? 
He  should  have  confessed  his  sin  instead  of  cursing 
life  and  reflecting  on  God.  Their  own  silent  suspicion, 
indeed,  is  the  chief  cause  of  his  despair  ;  but  this  they 
do  not  understand.  Amazed  they  hear  him  ;  outraged, 
they  take  up  the  challenge  he  offers.  One  after  another 
the  three  men  reason  with  Job,  from  almost  the  same 
point  of  view,  suggesting  first  and  then  insisting  that 
he  should  acknowledge  fault  and  humble  himself  under 
the  hand  of  a  just  and  holy  God. 

Now,  here  is  the  motive  of  the  long  controversy 
which  is  the  main  subject  of  the  poem.  And,  in  tracing 
it,  we  are  to  see  Job,  although  racked  by  pain  and 
distraught  by  grief — sadly  at  disadvantage  because  he 
seems  to  be  a  living  example  of  the  truth  of  their  ideas 
— rousing  himself  to  the  defence  of  his  integrity  and 
contending  for  that  as  the  only  grip  he  has  of  God. 
Advance  after  advance  is  made  by  the  three,  who 
gradually  become  more  dogmatic  as  the  controversy 
proceeds.  Defence  after  defence  is  made  by  Job,  who 
is  driven  to  think  himself  challenged  not  only  by  his 


102  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

friends,  but  sometimes  also  by  God  Himself  through 
them. 

Eliphaz,    Bildad,  and   Zophar  agree   in   the  opinion 
that  Job  has  done  evil  and  is  suffering  for  it.     The 
language    they   use    and    the    arguments    they     bring 
forward    are    much    alike.     Yet    a    difference    will    be 
found  in  their  way  of  speaking,  and  a  vaguely  suggested 
difference     of    character.       Eliphaz    gives    us    an    im- 
pression of  age  and  authority.     When  Job  has  ended 
his   complaint,   Eliphaz  regards   him   with  a  disturbed 
and    offended   look.       ''  How    pitiful  ! "    he   seems   to 
say;  but  also,    "How  dreadful,  how  unaccountable!" 
He  desires  to  win  Job  to  a  right  view  of  things  by 
kindly  counsel ;  but  he  talks  pompously,  and  preaches 
too  much  from  the  high  moral  bench.     Bildad,  again, 
is  a 'dry  and   composed  person.     He  is  less  the  man 
of  experience  than  of  tradition.     He  does  not  speak  of 
discoveries  made  in  the  course  of  his  own  observation  ; 
but  he  has  stored  the  sayings  of  the  wise  and  reflected 
upon  them.     When  a  thing  is  cleverly  said  he  is  satis- 
fied,   and   he    cannot  understand    why   his   impressive 
statements   should  fail  to   convince   and  convert.     He 
is  a  gentleman,   like  Eliphaz,   and  uses  courtesy.     At 
first  he   refrains   from    wounding  Job's  feelings.     Yet 
behind  his  politeness  is  the  sense  of  superior  wisdom — 
the  wisdom  of  ages,  and  his  own.     He  is  certainly  a 
harder  man   than  Eliphaz.     Lastly,  Zophar  is  a  blunt 
man  with  a  decidedly  rough,  dictatorial  style.     He  is 
impatient  of  the  waste  of  words  on  a  matter  so  plain, 
and  prides  himself  on  coming  to  the  point.     It  is  he 
who    ventures,   to    say    definitely :    "  Know    therefore 
that    God    exacteth   of  thee    less    than    thine    iniquity 
deserveth," — a  cruel  speech   from  any  point  of  view. 
He  is  not  so  eloquent   as  Eliphaz,  he   has    no  air  of 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  103 

a  prophet.  Compared  with  Bildad  he  is  less  argii- 
inentative.  With  all  his  sympathy — and  he,  too,  is  a 
friend — he  shows  an  exasperation  which  he  justifies 
by  his  zeal  for  the  honour  of  God.  The  differences 
are  delicate,  but  real,  and  evident  even  to  our  late 
criticism.  In  the  author's  day  the  characters  would 
probably  seem  more  distinctly  contrasted  than  they 
appear  to  us.  Still,  it  must  be  owned,  each  holds 
virtually  the  same  position.  One  prevailing  school  of 
thought  is  represented  and  in  each  figure  attacked. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  three  speakers  differing  far 
more  from  each  other.  For  example,  instead  of  Bildad 
we  might  have  had  a  Persian  full  of  the  Zoroastrian 
ideas  of  two  great  powers,  the  Good  Spirit,  Ahura- 
mazda,  and  the  Evil  Spirit,  Ahriman.  Such  a  one 
might  have  maintained  that  Job  had  given  himself 
to  the  Evil  Spirit,  or  that  his  revolt  against  providence 
would  bring  him  under  that  destructive  power  and 
work  his  ruin.  And  then,  instead  of  Zophar,  one 
might  have  been  set  forward  who  maintained  that 
gcod  and  evil  make  no  difference,  that  all  things 
come  alike  to  all,  that  there  is  no  God  who  cares  for 
righteousness  among  men ;  assailing  Job's  faith  in  a 
more  dangerous  way.  But  the  writer  has  no  such 
view  of  making  a  striking  drama.  His  circle  of  vision 
is  deliberately  chosen.  It  is  only  what  might  appear 
to  be  true  he  allows  his  characters  to  advance.  One 
hears  the  breathings  of  the  same  dogmatism  in  the 
three  voices.  All  is  said  for  the  ordinary  belief  that 
can  be  said.  And  three  different  men  reason  with  Job 
that  it  may  be  understood  how  popular,  how  deeply 
rooted  is  the  notion  which  the  whole  book  is  meant 
to  criticise  and  disprove.  The  dramatising  is  vague, 
not  at  all  of  our  sharp,  modern  kind  like  that  of  Ibsen, 


104  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


throwing  each  figure  into  vivid  contrast  with  every 
other.  All  the  author's  concern  is  to  give  full  play 
to  the  theory  which  holds  the  ground  and  to  show  its 
incompatibility  with  the  facts  of  human  life,  so  that  it 
may  perish  of  its  own  hollowness. 

Nevertheless    the  first    address   to    Job    is  eloquent 
and  poetically  beautiful.     No  rude    arguer  is  Eliphaz 
but  one  of  the  golden-mouthed,  mistaken  in  creed  but 
not  in  heart,  a  man  whom  Job  might  well  cherish  as  a 
friend. 

I.  The  first  part  of  his  speech  extends  to  the 
eleventh  verse.  With  the  respect  due  to  sorrow, 
putting  aside  the  dismay  caused  by  Job's  wild  language, 
he  asks,  ''  If  one  essay  to  commune  with  thee,  wilt  thou 
be  grieved  ? "  It  seems  unpardonable  to  add  to  the 
sufferer's  misery  by  saying  what  he  has  in  his  mind  ; 
and  yet — he  cannot  refrain.  ''  Who  can  withhold  him- 
self from  speaking?"  The  state  of  Job  is  such  that 
there  must  be  thorough  and  very  serious  communica- 
tion. Eliphaz  reminds  him  of  what  he  had  been — an 
instructor  of  the  ignorant,  one  who  strengthened  the 
weak,  upheld  the  falling,  confirmed  the  feeble.  Was 
he  not  once  so  confident  of  himself,  so  resolute  and 
helpful  that  fainting  men  found  him  a  bulwark  against 
despair  ?  Should  he  have  changed  so  completely  ? 
Should  one  like  him  take  to  fruitless  wailings  and 
complaints  ?  ''  Now  it  cometh  upon  thee,  and  thou 
faintest ;  it  toucheth  thee,  and  thou  art  confounded." 
Eliphaz  does  not  mean  to  taunt.  It  is  in  sorrow  that 
he  speaks,  pointing  out  the  contrast  between  what  was 
and  is.  Where  is  the  strong  faith  of  former  days  ? 
There  is  need  for  it,  and  Job  ought  to  have  it  as  his 
stay.  "Is  not  thy  piety  thy  confidence?  Thy  hope, 
is  it  not  the  integrity  of  thy  ways?"     Why  does  he 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  105 

not  look  back  and  take  courage  ?  Pious  fear  of  God, 
if  he  allows  himself  to  be  guided  by  it,  will  not  fail  to 
lead  him  again  into  the  light. 

It  is  a  friendly  and  sincere  effort  to  make  the 
champion  of  God  serve  himself  of  his  own  faith. 
The  undercurrent  of  doubt  is  not  allowed  to  appear. 
Eliphaz  makes  it  a  wonder  that  Job  had  dropped  his 
claim  on  the  Most  High  ;  and  he  proceeds  in  a  tone  of 
expostulation,  amazed  that  a  man  who  knew  the  way 
of  the  Almighty  should  fall  into  the  miserable  weakness 
of  the  worst  evil-doer.  Poetically,  yet  firmly,  the  idea 
is  introduced  : — 

"  BetJiink  thee  now,  who  ever,  being  innocent,  perished, 
And  where  have  the  upright  been  destroyed? 
As  I  have  seen,  they  who  plough  iniquity 
And  sow  disaster  reap  the  same. 
By  the  wrath  of  God  they  perish, 
By  the  storm  of  His  wrath  they  are  undone. 
Roaring  of  the  Hon,  voice  of  the  growling  lion, 
Teeth  of  the  young  lions  are  broken  ; 
The  old  lion  perisheth  for  lack  of  prey, 
The  whelps  of  the  lioness  are  scattered.'^ 

First  among  the  things  EHphaz  has  seen  is  the  fate  of 
those  violent  evil-doers  who  plough  iniquity  and  sov/ 
disaster.  But  Job  has  not  been  like  them  and  therefore 
has  no  need  to  fear  the  harvest  of  perdition.  He  is 
among  those  who  are  not  finally  cut  off.  In  the  tenth 
and  eleventh  verses  the  dispersion  of  a  den  of  lions  is 
the  symbol  of  the  fate  of  those  who  are  hot  in  wicked- 
ness. As  in  some  cave  of  the  mountains  an  old  lion  and 
lioness  with  their  whelps  dwell  securely,  issuing  forth 
at  their  will  to  seize  the  prey  and  make  night  dreadful 
with  their  growling,  so  those  evil-doers  flourish  for  a 
time  in  hateful  and  malignant  strength.  But  as  on  a 
sudden  the  hunters,  finding  the  lions'  retreat,  kill  and 


io6  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


scatter  them,  young  and  old,  so  the  coalition  of  wicked 
men  is  broken  up. '  The  rapacity  of  wild  desert  tribes 
appears  to  be  reflected  in  the  figure  here  used.  Eliphaz 
may  be  referring  to  some  incident  which  had  actually 
occurred. 

II.  In  the  second  division  of  his  address  he  en- 
deavours to  bring  home  to  Job  a  needed  moral  lesson 
by  detailing  a  vision  he  once  had  and  the  oracle  which 
came  with  it.  The  account  of  the  apparition  is  couched 
in  stately  and  impressive  language.  That  chilling 
sense  of  fear  which  sometimes  mingles  with  our  dreams 
in  the  dead  of  night,  the  sensation  of  a  presence  that 
cannot  be  realised,  something  awful  breathing  over  the 
face  and  making  the  flesh  creep,  an  imagined  voice 
falling  solemnly  on  the  ear, — all  are  vividly  described. 
In  the  recollection  of  Eliphaz  the  circumstances  of  the 
vision  are  ver}^  clear,  and  the  finest  poetic  skill  is  used 
in  giving  the  whole  solemn  dream  full  justice  and 
effect. 

"  Now  a  word  was  secretly  brought  me, 
Mine  ear  caught  the  whisper  thereof ; 
hi  thoughts  from  visions  of  the  night, 
When  deep  sleep  falls  upon  incn, 
A  terror  came  on  me,  and  (remhling 
Which  thrilled  my  bones  to  the  marrow. 
Then  a  breath  passed  before  my  face. 
The  hairs  of  my  body  rose  erect. 
It  stood  still — its  appearance  I  trace  not. 
An  image  is  before  mine  eyes. 
There  was  silence,  and  I  heard  a  voice — 
Shall  man  beside  Eloah  be  righteous  ? 
Or  beside  his  Maker  shall  man  be  clean  ?  " 

We  are  made  to  feel  here  how  extraordinary  the 
vision  appeared  to  Eliphaz,  and,  at  the  same  time,  how 
far  short  he  comes  of  the  seer's  gift.  For  what  is  this 
apparition  ?       Nothing    but    a    vague    creation    of  the 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  107 

dreaming  mind.  And  what  is  the  message  ?  No  new 
revelation,  no  discovery  of  an  inspired  soul.  After 
all,  only  a  fact  quite  familiar  to  pious  thought.  The 
dream  oracle  has  been  generally  supposed  to  continue 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  But  the  question  as  to  the 
righteousness  of  man  and  his  cleanness  beside  God 
seems  to  be  the  whole  of  it,  and  the  rest  is  Eliphaz's 
comment  or  meditation  upon  it,  his  ''thoughts  from 
visions  of  the  night." 

As  to  the  oracle  itself :  while  the  words  may  certainly 
bear  translating  so  as  to  imply  a  direct  comparison 
between  the  righteousness  of  man  and  the  righteousness 
of  God,  this  is  not  required  by  the  purpose  of  the 
writer,  as  Dr.  A.  B.  Davidson  has  shown.  In  the  form 
of  a  question  it  is  impressively  announced  that  with  or 
beside  the  High  God  no  weak  man  is  righteous,  no 
strong  man  pure  ;  and  this  is  sufficient,  for  the  aim  of 
Eliphaz  is  to  show  that  troubles  may  justly  come  on 
Job,  as  on  others,  because  all  are  by  nature  imperfect. 
No  doubt  the  oracle  might  transcend  the  scope  of 
the  argument.  Still  the  question  has  not  been  raised 
by  Job's  criticism  of  providence,  whether  he  reckons 
himself  more  just  than  God  ;  and  apart  from  that  any 
comparison  seems  unnecessary,  meeting  no  mood  of 
human  revolt  of  which  Eliphaz  has  ever  heard.  The 
oracle,  then,  is  practically  of  the  nature  of  a  truism, 
and,  as  such,  agrees  with  the  dream  vision  and  the 
impalpable  ghost,  a  dim  presentation  by  the  mind 
to  itself  of  what  a  visitor  from  the  higher  world 
might  be. 

Shall  any  created  being,  inheritor  of  human  defects, 
stand  beside  Eloah,  clean  in  His  sight  ?  Impossible. 
For,  however  sincere  and  earnest  any  one  may  be 
toward  God  and  in  the  service  of  men,  he  cannot  pass 


io8  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

the  fallibility  and  imperfection  of  the  creature.  The 
thought  thus  solemnly  announced,  Eliphaz  proceeds  to 
amplify  in  a  prophetic  strain,  which,  however,  does  not 
rise  above  the  level  of  good  poetry. 

"  Behold,  He  putteth  no  trust  in  His  servants," 
Nothing  that  the  best  of  them  have  to  do  is  committed 
entirely  to  them;  the  supervision  of  Eloah  is  always 
maintained  that  their  defects  may  not  mar  His  purpose. 
"His  angels  He  chargeth  with  error."  Even  the 
heavenly  spirits,  if  we  are  to  trust  Eliphaz,  go  astray ; 
they  are  under  a  law  of  discipline  and  holy  correction. 
In  the  Supreme  Light  they  are  judged  and  often  found 
wanting.  To  credit  this  to  a  Divine  oracle  would  be 
somewhat  disconcerting  to  ordinary  theological  ideas. 
But  the  argument  is  clear  enough, ^ — If  even  the  angelic 
servants  of  God  require  the  constant  supervision  of 
His  wisdom  and  their  faults  need  His  correction,  much 
more  do  men  whose  bodies  are  *'  houses  of  clay,  whose 
foundation  is  in  the  dust,  who  are- crushed  before  the 
moth " — that  is,  the  moth  which  breeds  corrupting 
worms.  "  From  morning  to  evening  they  are  de- 
stroyed " — in  a  single  day  their  vigour  and  beauty 
pass  into  decay. 

''  Without  observance  they  perish  for  ever,"  says 
Eliphaz.  Clearly  this  is  not  a  word  of  Divine  prophecy. 
It  would  place  man  beneath  the  level  of  moral  judg- 
ment, as  a  mere  earth-creature  whose  life  and  death  are 
of  no  account  even  to  God.  Men  go  their  way  when  a 
comrade  falls,  and  soon  forget.  True  enough.  But 
"  One  higher  than  the  highest  regardeth."  The  stupid- 
ity or  insensibility  of  most  men  to  spiritual  things  is 
in  contrast  to  the  attention  and  judgment  of  God. 

The  description  of  man's  life  on  earth,  its  brevity 
and  dissolution,  on  account  of  which  he  can  never  exalt 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS   ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  109 


himself  as  just  and  clean  beside  God,  ends  with  words 
that  may  be  translated  thus  : — 

"  Is  not  their  cord  torn  asunder  in  them  ? 
They  shall  die,  and  not  in  wisdom." 

Here  the  tearing  up  of  the  tent  cord  or  the  breaking 
of  the  bow-string  is  an  image  of  the  snapping  of  that 
chain  of  vital  functions,  the  "  silver  cord,"  on  which 
the  bodily  life  depends. 

The  argument  of  EHphaz,  so  far,  has  been,  first,  that 
Job,  as  a  pious  man,  should  have  kept  his  confidence 
in  God,  because  he  was  not  like  those  who  plough 
iniquity  and  sow  disaster  and  have  no  hope  in  Divine 
mercy  ;  next,  that  before  the  Most  High  all  are  more 
or  less  unrighteous  and  impure,  so  that  if  Job  suffers 
for  defect,  he  is  no  exception,  his  afflictions  are  not  to 
be  wondered  at.  And  this  carries  the  further  thought 
that  he  ought  to  be  conscious  of  fault  and  humble 
himself  under  the  Divine  hand.  Just  at  this  point 
EHphaz  comes  at  last  within  sight  of  the  right  way  to 
find  Job's  heart  and  conscience.  The  corrective  dis- 
cipline which  all  need  was  safe  ground  to  take  with 
one  who  could  not  have  denied  in  the  last  resort  that 
he,  too,  had 

.     "  Sins  of  will, 
Defects  of  doubt  and  taints  of  blood." 

This  strain  of  argument,  however,  closes,  EHphaz  having 
much  in  his  mind  which  has  not  found  expression 
and  is  of  serious  import. 

III.  The  speaker  sees  that  Job  is  impatient  of  the 
sufferings  which  make  hfe  appear  useless  to  him.  But 
suppose  he  appealed  to  the  saints — holy  ones,  or 
angels — to  take  his  part,  would  that  be  of  any  use? 
In  his  cry  from  the  depth  he   had  shown  resentment 


no  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

and  hasty  passion.  These  do  not  insure,  they  do  not 
deserve  help.  The  *'  holy  ones "  would  not  respond 
to  a  man  so  unreasonable  and  indignant.  On  the  con- 
trary, ''  resentment  slayeth  the  foolish  man,  passion 
killeth  the  silly."  What  Job  had  said  in  his  outcry 
only  tended  to  bring  on  him  the  fatal  stroke  of  God. 
Having  caught  at  this  idea,  Eliphaz  proceeds  in  a 
manner  rather  surprising.  He  has  been  shocked  by 
Job's  bitter  words.  The  horror  he  felt  returns  upon 
him,  and  he  falls  into  a  very  singular  and  inconsiderate 
strain  of  remark.  He  does  not,  indeed,  identify 
his  old  friend  with  the  foolish  man  whose  destruction 
he  proceeds  to  paint.  But  an  instance  has  occurred 
to  him — a  bit  of  his  large  experience — of  one  who 
behaved  in  a  godless,  irrational  way  and  suffered  for  it ; 
and  for  Job's  warning,  because  he  needs  to  take  home 
the  lesson  of  the  catastrophe,  Eliphaz  details  the  story. 
Forgetting  the  circumstances  of  his  friend,  utterly 
forgetting  that  the  man  lying  before  him  has  lost  all  his 
children  and  that  robbers  have  swallowed  his  substance, 
absorbed  in  his  own  reminiscence  to  the  exclusion  of 
every  other  thought,  Eliphaz  goes  deliberately  through 
a  whole  roll  of  disasters  so  like  Job's  that  every  word 
is  a  poisoned  arrow  : — 

"  Plead  then  :  will  any  one  answer  thee  ; 
And  to  which  of  the  holy  ones  wilt  thou  turn  ? 
Nay,  resentment  killeth  the  fool, 
And  hasty  indignation  slayeth  the  silly. 
I  myself  have  seen  a  godless  fool  take  root ; 
Yet  straightway  I  cursed  his  habitation  : — 
His  children  are  far  from  succour. 
They  are  crushed  in  the  gate  without  deliverer  : 
While  the  hungry  eats  up  his  harvest 
And  snatches  it  even  out  of  the  thorns, 
And  the  snare  gapes  for  their  substance,'" 


THE    THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN. 


The  desolation  he  saw  come  suddenly,  even  when 
the  impious  man  had  just  taken  root  as  founder  of 
a  family,  Eliphaz  declares  to  be  a  curse  from  the  Most 
High  ;  and  he  describes  it  with  much  force.  Upon 
the  children  of  the  household  disaster  falls  at  the  gate 
or  place  of  judgment ;  there  is  no  one  to  plead  for 
them,  because  the  father  is  marked  for  the  vengeance 
of  God.  Predatory  tribes  from  the  desert  devour  first 
the  crops  in  the  remoter  fields,  and  then  those  protected 
b}^  the  thorn  hedge  near  the  homestead.  The  man 
had  been  an  oppressor;  now  those  he  had  oppressed 
are  under  no  restraint,  and  all  he  has  is  swallowed  up 
without  redress. 

So  much  for  the  third  attempt  to  convict  Job  and 
bring  him  to  confession.  It  is  a  bolt  shot  apparently 
at  a  venture,  yet  it  strikes  where  it  must  wound  to 
the  quick.  Here,  however,  made  aware,  perhaps  by 
a  look  of  anguish  or  a  sudden  gesture,  that  he  has 
gone  too  far,  Eliphaz  draws  back.  To  the  general 
dogma  that  afQiction  is  the  lot  of  _every  human  being 
he  returns,  that  the  sting  may  be  taken  out  of  his 
words : — 

"  For  disaster  conieth  not  forth  from  the  dust, 
And  out  of  the  ground  trouble  spnngeth  not ; 
But  man  is  born  imto  trouble 
As  the  sparks  fly  upward" 

By  this  vague  piece  of  moralising,  which  sheds  no  light 
on  anything,  Eliphaz  betrays  himself  He  shows  that 
he  is  not  anxious  to  get  at  the  root  of  the  matter.  The 
whole  subject  of  pain  and  calamity  is  external  to  him, 
not  a  part  of  his  own  experience.  He  would  speak 
very  differently  if  he  were  himself  deprived  of  all  his 
possessions  and  laid  low  in  trouble.  As  it  is  he  can 
turn    glibly    from    one    thought   to   another,    as   if    it 


112  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

mattered  not  which  fits  the  case.  In  fact,  as  he 
advances  and  retreats  we  discover  that  he  is  feeHng 
his  way,  aiming  first  at  one  thing,  then  at  another,  in 
the  hope  that  this  or  that  random  arrow  may  hit  the 
mark.  No  man  is  just  beside  God.  Job  is  Hke  the  rest, 
crushed  before  the  moth.  Job  has  spoken  passionately, 
in  wild  resentment.  Is  he  then  among  the  foolish 
whose  habitation  is  cursed  ?  But  again,  lest  that 
should  not  be  true,  the  speaker  falls  back  on  the 
common  lot  of  men,  born  to  trouble — why,  God  alone 
can  tell.  Afterwards  he  makes  another  suggestion. 
Is  not  God  He  who  frustrates  the  devices  of  the  crafty 
and  confounds  the  cunning,  so  that  they  grope  in  the 
blaze  of  noon  as  if  it  were  night  ?  If  the  other  ex- 
planations did  not  apply  to  Job's  condition,  perhaps 
this  would.  At  all  events  something  might  be  said  by 
way  of  answer  that  would  give  an  inkling  of  the  truth. 
At  last  the  comparatively  kind  and  vague  explanation 
is  offered,  that  Job  suffers  from  the  chastening  of  the 
Lord,  who,  though  He  afflicts,  is  also  ready  to  heal. 
Glancing  at  all  possibilities  which  occur  to  him, 
Eliphaz  leaves  the  afflicted  man  to  accept  that  which 
happens  to  come  home. 

IV.  Eloquence,  literary  skill,  sincerity,  mark  the  close 
of  this  address.  It  is  the  argument  of  a  man  who  is 
anxious  to  bring  his  friend  to  a  right  frame  of  mind 
so  that  his  latter  days  may  be  peace.  "  As  for  me," 
he  says,  hinting  what  Job  should  do,  ''  I  would  turn 
to  God,  and  set  my  expectation  upon  the  Highest." 
Then  he  proceeds  to  give  his  thoughts  on  Divine  pro- 
vidence. Unsearchable,  wonderful  are  the  doings  of 
God.  He  is  the  Rain-giver  for  the  thirsty  fields  and 
desert  pastures.  Among  men,  too.  He  makes  manifest 
His  power,  exalting  those  who  are  lowly,  and  restoring 


iv.,v.]  THE   THINGS  ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  113 

the  joy  of  the  mourners.  Crafty  men,  who  plot  to 
make  their  own  way,  oppose  His  sovereign  power  in 
vain.  They  are  stricken  as  if  with  blindness.  Out 
of  their  hand  the  helpless  are  delivered,  and  hope  is 
restored  to  the  feeble.  Has  Job  been  crafty  ?  Has 
he  been  in  secret  a  plotter  against  the  peace  of  men  ? 
Is  it  for  this  reason  God  has  cast  him  down  ?  Let  him 
repent,  and  he  shall  yet  be  saved.     For 

"  Happy  is  the  man  tvliom  Eloah  corrccfeth, 
Therefore  spurn  not  thou  the  chastening  of  Shaddai. 
For  He  inaketh  sore  and  hindeth  up  ; 
He  stnitetli,  but  His  liands  make  whole. 
In  six  straits  He  tvill  deliver  thee ; 
In  seven  also  shall  not  evil  touch  thee. 
In  famine  He  ivill  rescue  thee  from  death, 
And  in  war  from  the  power  of  the  szvord. 
When  the  tongue  smiteth  thou  shall  be  hid  ; 
Nor  shall  thou  fear  when  desolation  cometh. 
At  destruction  and  famine  thou  shall  laugh  ; 
And  of  the  beasts  of  the  earth  shall  not  be  afraid. 
For  with  the  stones  of  the  field  shall  be  thy  covenant ; 
With  thee  shall  the  beasts  of  the  field  be  at  peace. 
So  shall  thou  find  that  thy  tent  is  secure^ 
And  surveying  thy  homestead  thou  shall  miss  nothing. 
Thou  shall  find  that  thy  seed  are  many, 
And  thy  offspring  like  the  grass  of  the  earth  ; 
Thou  shall  come  to  thy  grave  with  white  hair^ 
As  a  ripe  shock  of  corn  is  carried  home  in  its  season. 
Behold  !     This  ive  have  searched  out :  thus  it  is. 
Hear  it,  and,  thou,  consider  it  for  thyself !  " 

Fine,  indeed,  as  dramatic  poetry  ;  but  is  it  not,  as 
reasoning,  incoherent?  The  author  does  not  mean  it 
to  be  convincing.  He  who  is  chastened  and  receives 
the  chastening  may  not  be  saved  in  those  six  troubles, 
yea  seven.  There  is  more  of  dream  than  fact.  Eliphaz 
is  apparently  right  in  everything,  as  Dillmann  says  ; 
but  right  only  on  the  surface.     He  has  seen — that  they 

8 


114  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

who  plough  iniquity  and  sow  disaster  reap  the  same. 
He  has  seen — a  vision  of  the  night,  and  received  a 
message  ;  a  sign  of  God's  favour  that  almost  made  him 
a  prophet.  He  has  seen — a  fool  or  impious  man  taking 
root,  but  was  not  deceived  ;  he  knew  what  would  be  the 
end,  and  took  upon  him  to  curse  judicially  the  doomed 
homestead.  He  has  seen — the  crafty  confounded. 
He  has  seen— the  man  whom  God  corrected,  who  re- 
ceived his  chastisement  with  submission,  rescued  and 
restored  to  honour.  "Lo,  this  we  have  searched  out," 
he  says  ;  "  it  is  even  thus."  But  the  piety  and  ortho- 
doxy of  the  good  Eliphaz  do  not  save  him  from 
blunders  at  every  turn.  And  to  the  clearing  of  Job's 
position  he  offers  no  suggestion  of  value.  What  does 
he  say  to  throw  light  on  the  condition  of  a  believing, 
earnest  servant  of  the  Almighty  who  is  always  poor, 
always  afflicted,  who  meets  disappointment  after  dis- 
appointment, and  is  pursued  by  sorrow  and  disaster 
even  to  the  grave  ?  The  religion  of  Eliphaz  is  made 
for  well-to-do  people  like  himself,  and  such  only.  If 
it  were  true  that,  because  all  are  sinful  before  God, 
affliction  and  pain  are  punishments  of  sin,  and  a  man 
is  happy  in  receiving  this  Divine  correction,  why  is 
Eliphaz  himself  not  lying  like  Job  upon  a  heap  pf 
ashes,  racked  with  the  torment  of  disease  ?  Good 
orthodox  prosperous  man,  he  thinks  himself  a  prophet, 
but  he  is  none.  Were  he  tried  like  Job  he  would  be 
as  unreasonable  and  passionate,  as  wild  in  his  declama- 
tion against  life,  as  eager  for  death. 

Useless  in  religion  is  all  mere  talk  that  only  skims 
the  surface,  however  often  the  terms  of  it  may  be 
repeated,  however  widely  they  find  acceptance.  The 
creed  that  breaks  down  at  any  point  is  no  creed  for 
a  rational  being.     Infidelity  in  our  day  is  very  much 


iv,  v.]  THE    THINGS   ELIPHAZ  HAD  SEEN.  115 

the  consequence  of  crude  notions  about  God  that  con- 
tradict each  other,  notions  of  the  atonement,  of  the 
meaning  of  suffering,  of  the  future  hfe,  that  are 
incoherent,  childish,  of  no  practical  weight.  People 
think  they  have  a  firm  grasp  of  the  truth  ;  but  when 
circumstances  occur  which  are  at  variance  with  their 
preconceived  ideas,  they  turn  away  from  religion,  or  their 
religion  makes  the  facts  of  life  appear  worse  for  them. 
It  is  the  result  of  insufficient  thought.  Research  must 
go  deeper,  must  return  with  new  zeal  to  the  study  of 
Scripture  and  the  life  of  Christ.  God's  revelation  in 
providence  and  Christianity  is  one.  It  has  a  profound 
coherency,  the  stamp  and  evidence  of  its  truth.  The 
rigidity  of  natural  law  has  its  meaning  for  us  in  our 
study  of  the  spiritual  life. 


VIIT. 

MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING. 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  vi.,  vii. 

WORST  to  endure  of  all  things  is  the  grief  that 
preys  on  a  man's  own  heart  because  no  channel 
outside  self  is  provided  for  the  hot  stream  of  thought. 
Now  that  Eliphaz  has  spoken,  Job  has  something 
to  arouse  him,  at  least  to  resentment.  The  strength 
of  his  mind  revives  as  he  finds  himself  called  to  a 
battle  of  words.  And  how  energetic  he  is  !  The  long 
address  of  Eliphaz  we  saw  to  be  incoherent,  without 
the  backbone  of  any  clear  conviction,  turning  hither 
and  thither  in  the  hope  of  making  some  way  or  other 
a  happy  hit.  But  as  soon  as  Job  begins  to  speak 
there  is  coherency,  strong  thought  running  through 
the  variety  of  expression,  the  anxiety  for  instruction, 
the  sense  of  bewilderment  and  trouble.  We  feel  at 
once  that  we  are  in  contact  with  a  mind  no  half- 
truths  can  satisfy,  that  will  go  with  whatever  difficulty 
to  the  very  bottom  of  the  matter. 

Supreme  mark  of  a  healthy  nature,  this.  People 
are  apt  to  praise  a  rriind  at  peace,  moving  composedly 
from  thought  to  thought,  content  '' to  enjoy  the  things 
which  others  understand,"  not  distressed  by  moral 
questions.     But  minds  enjoying    such  peace  are  only 

ii6 


MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING. 


to  be  praised  if  the  philosophy  of  life  has  been  searched 
out  and  tried,  and  the  great  trust  in  God  which 
resolves  all  doubt  has  been  found.  While  life  and 
providence,  one's  own  history  and  the  history  of  the 
world  present  what  appear  to  be  contradictions, 
problems  that  baffle  and  disturb  the  soul,  how  can 
a  healthy  mind  be  at  rest  ?  Our  intellectual  powers 
are  not  given  simply  that  we  may  enjoy ;  they  are 
given  that  we  may  understand.  A  mind  hungers 
for  knowledge,  as  a  body  for  food,  and  cannot  be 
satisfied  iinless  the  reason  and  the  truth  of  things 
are  seen.  You  ma}^  object  that  some  are  not 
capable  of  understanding,  that  indeed  Divine  pro- 
vidence, the  great  purposes  of  God,  lie  so  far  and  so 
high  beyond  the  ordinary  human  range  as  to  be 
incomprehensible  to  most  of  us.  Of  what  use,  then, 
is  revelation  ?  Is  it  given  merely  to  bewilder  us,  to 
lead  us  on  in  a  quest  which  at  the  last  must  leave 
many  of  the  searchers  unsatisfied,  without  light  or 
hope  ?  If  so,  the  Bible  mocks  us,  the  prophets  were 
deceivers,  even  Christ  Himself  is  found  no  Light  of 
the  world,  but  a  dreamer  who  spoke  of  that  which  can 
never  be  realised.  Not  thus  do  I  begin  in  doubt,  and 
end  in  doubt.  There  are  things  beyond  me  ;  but 
exact  or  final  knowledge  of  these  is  not  necessary. 
Within  my  range  and  reach  through  nature  and 
religion,  through  the  Bible  and  the  Son  of  God,  are 
the  principles  I  need  to  satisfy  my  soul's  hunger. 
And  in  every  healthy  mind  there  will  be  desire  for 
truth  w^hich,  often  baffied,  will  continue  till  understand- 
ing comes. 

And  here  we  join  issue  with  the  agnostic,  who 
denies  this  vital  demand  of  the  soul.  Our  thought 
dwelling  on  hfe  and  all  its  varied  experience — sorrow 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


and  fear,  misery  and  hope,  love  threatened  by  death 
yet  unquenchable,  the  exultation  of  duty,  the  baffling 
of  ambition,  unforeseen  peril  and  unexpected  deliver- 
ance— our  thought,  I  say,  dealing  with  these  ele- 
ments of  life,  will  not  rest  in  the  notion  that  all 
is  due  to  chance  or  to  blind  forces,  that  evolution 
can  never  be  intelligently  followed.  The  modern 
atheist  or  agnostic  falls  into  the  very  error  for 
which  he  used  to  reprove  faith  when  he  contempt- 
uously bids  us  get  rid  of  the  hope  of  understanding 
the  world  and  the  Power  directing  it,  when  he 
invites  us  to  remember  our  limitations  and  occupy 
ourselves  with  things  within  our  range.  Religion 
used  to.  be  taunted  with  crippling  man's  faculties  and 
denying  full  play  to  his  mental  activity.  Scientific 
unbehef  does  so  now.  It  restricts  us  to  the  seen  and 
temporal,  and,  if  consistent,  ought  to  refuse  all  ideals 
and  all  desires  for  a  "  perfect "  state.  The  modern 
sage,  intent  on  the  study  of  material  things  and  their 
changes,  confining  himself  to  what  can  be  seen, 
heard,  touched,  or  by  instruments  analysed,  may  have 
nothing  but  scorn  or,  sa}^,  pity  for  one  who  cries  out 
of  trouble — 

"  Have  I  sinned  ?     Yet,  what  have  I  done  unto  Thee, 

O  Thou  Watcher  of  men  ? 
Why  hast  Thou  set  me  as  Thy  stumbling-block, 

So  that  I  am  a  burden  to  myself? 
And  why  wilt  Thou  not  pardon  my  transgression, 

And  cause  my  sin  to  pass  away  ?  " 

But  the  man  whose  soul  is  eager  in  the  search  for 
reality  must  endeavour  to  wrest  from  Heaven  itself  the 
secret  of  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  real,  his  conflict 
with  the  real,  and  why  he  must  so  often  suffer  from 
the  very  forces  that  sustain  his  life.     Yes,  the  passion 


vi.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  119 

of  the  soul  continues.  It  protests  against  darkness, 
and  therefore  against  materiahsm.  Conscious  mind 
presses  toward  an  origin  of  thought.  Soul  must 
find  a  Divine  Eternal  Soul.  Where  nature  opens 
ascending  ways  to  the  reason  in  its  quest  ;  where 
prophets  and  sages  have  cut  paths  here  and  there 
through  the  forest  of  mystery;  where  the  brave  and 
true  testify  of  a  light  they  have  seen  and  invite  us  to 
follow  ;  where  One  stands  high  and  radiant  above  the 
cross  on  which  He  suffered  and  declares  Himself  the 
Resurrection  and  the  Life, — there  men  will  advance, 
feeling  themselves  inspired  to  maintain  the  search 
for  that  Eternal  Truth  without  the  hope  of  which 
all  our  life  here  is  a  wearisome  pageant,  a  troubled 
dream,  a  bitter  slavery. 

In  his  reply  to  Eliphaz,  Job  first  takes  hold  of  the 
charge  of  impatience  and  hasty  indignation  made  in  the 
opening  of  the  fifth  chapter.  He  is  quite  aware  that 
his  words  were  rash  when  he  cursed  his  day  and  cried 
impatiently  for  death.  In  accusing  him  of  rebellious 
passion,  Eliphaz  had  shot  the  only  arrow  that  went 
home ;  and  now  Job,  conscientious  here,  pulls  out  the 
arrow  to  show  it  and  the  wound.  ''  Oh,"  he  cries, 
"  that  my  hasty  passion  were  duly  weighed,  and  my 
misery  were  laid  in  the  balance  against  it  !  For  then 
would  it,  my  misery,  be  found  heavier  than  the  sand  of 
the  seas  :  therefore  have  my  words  been  rash."  He  is 
almost  deprecatory.  Yes  :  he  will  admit  the  impatience 
and  vehemence  with  which  he  spoke.  But  then,  had 
Eliphaz  duly  considered  his  state,  the  weight  of  his 
trouble  causing  a  physical  sense  of  indescribable  op- 
pression ?  Let  his  friends  look  at  him  again,  a  man 
prostrated  with  sore  disease  and  grief,  dying  slowly  in 
the  leper's  exile. 


120  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

"  The  arrows  of  the  Almighty  are  withitt  me, 
The  poison  ivhcreof  tny  spirit  drinketh  up. 
The  terrors  of  God  beleaguer  «7^." 

We  need  not  fall  into  the  mistake  of  supposing  that 
it  is  only  the  pain  of  his  disease  which  makes  Job's 
misery  so  heavy.  Rather  is  .it  that  his  troubles  have 
come  from  God  ;  they  are  "  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty." 
Mere  suffering  and  loss,  even  to  the  extremity  of  death, 
he  could  have  borne  without  a  murmur.  But  he  had 
thought  God  to  be  his  friend.  Why  on  a  sudden  have 
those  darts  been  launched  against  him  by  the  hand  he 
trusted  ?  What  does  the  Almighty  mean  ?  The  evil- 
doer who  suffers  knows  why  he  is  afQicted.  The 
martyr  enduring  for  conscience'  sake  has  his  support 
in  the  truth  to  which  he  bears  witness,  the  holy  cause 
for  which  he  dies.  Job  has  no  explanation,  no  support. 
He  cannot  understand  providence.  The  God  with 
whom  he  supposed  himself  to  be  at  peace  suddenly 
becomes  an  angry  incomprehensible  Power,  blighting 
and  destroying  His  servant's  life.  Existence  poisoned, 
the  couch  of  ashes  encompassed  with  terrors,  is  it  any 
wonder  that  passionate  words  break  from  his  lips  ?  A 
cry  is  the  last  power  left  to  him. 

So  it  is  wilh  many.  The  seeming  needlessness  of 
their  sufferings,  the  impossibility  of  tracing  these  to 
any  cause  in  their  past  history,  in  a  word,  the  mystery 
of  the  pain  confounds  the  mind,  and  adds  to  anguish 
and  desolation  an  unspeakable  horror  of  darkness. 
Sometimes  the  very  thing  guarded  against  is  that  which 
happens ;  a  man's  best  intelligence  appears  confuted  by 
destiny  or  chance.  Why  has  he  amongst  the  many 
been  chosen  for  this  ?  Do  all  things  come  alike  to  all, 
righteous  and  wicked  ?  The  problem  becomes  terribly 
acute    in    the    case    of  earnest  God-fearing    men   and 


vi.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING. 


women  who  have  not  yet  found  the  real  theory  of 
suffering.  Endurance  for  others  does  not  always 
explain.  All  cannot  be  rested  on  that.  Nor  unless  we 
speak  falsely  for  God  will  it  avail  to  say,  These  afflic- 
tions have  fallen  on  us  for  our  sins.  For  even  if  the 
conscience  does  not  give  the  lie  to  that  assertion,  as 
Job's  conscience  did,  the  question  demands  a  clear 
answer  why  the  penitent  should  suffer,  those  who 
believe,  to  whom  God  imputes  no  iniquity.  If  it  is 
for  our  transgressions  we  suffer,  either  our  own  faith 
and  religion  are  vain,  or  God  does  not  forgive  excepting 
in  form,  and  the  law  of  punishment  retains  its  force. 
We  have  here  the  serious  difficulty  that  legal  fictions 
seem  to  hold  their  ground  even  in  the  dealings  of  the 
Most  High  with  those  who  trust  Him.  Many  are  in 
the  direst  trouble  still  for  the  same  reason  as  Job, 
and  might  use  his  very  words.  Taught  to  believe  that 
suffering  is  invariably  connected  with  wrong-doing  and 
is  always  in  proportion  to  it,  they  cannot  find  in  their 
past  life  any  great  transgressions  for  which  they 
should  be  racked  with  constant  pain  or  kept  in  grind- 
ing penury  and  disappointment.  Moreover,  they  had 
imagined  that  through  the  mediation  of  Christ  their 
sins  were  expiated  and  their  guilt  blotted  out.  What 
strange  error  is  there  in  the  creed  or  in  the  world  ? 
Have  they  never  believed  ?  Has  God  turned  against 
them  ?     So  they  inquire  in  the  darkness. 

The  truth,  however,  as  shown  in  a  previous  chapter, 
is  that  suffering  has  no  proportion  to  the  guilt  of  sin, 
but  is  related  in  the  scheme  of  Divine  providence  to 
life  in  this  world,  its  movement,  discipline,  and  per- 
fecting in  the  individual  and  the  race.  Afflictions, 
pains,  and  griefs  are  appointed  to  the  best  as  well  as 
the  worst,  because  all  need  to  be  tried  and  urged  on  from 


122  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

imperfect  faith  and  spirituality  to  vigour,  constancy, 
and  courage  of  soul.  The  principle  is  not  clearly 
stated  in  the  Book  of  Job,  but  underlies  it,  as  truth 
must  underlie  all  genuine  criticism  and  every  faithful 
picture  of  human  life.  The  inspiration  of  the  poem  is 
so  to  present  the  facts  of  human  experience  that  the 
real  answer  alone  can  satisfy.  And  in  the  speech  we 
are  now  considering  some  imperfect  and  mistaken 
views  are  swept  so  completely  aside  that  their  survival 
is  almost  unaccountable. 

Beginning  with  the  fifth  verse  we  have  a  series  of 
questions  somewhat  difficult  to  interpret : — 

"  Doth  the  wild  ass  bray  when  he  hath  grass  ? 
Or  loweth  the  ox  over  his  fodder  ? 
Can  that  be  eaten  which  is  unsavoury^  without  salt  ? 
Or  is  there  any  taste  in  the  white  of  an  egg  ? 
My  soul  refuscth  to  touch  them  ; 
They  are  to  me  as  mouldy  bread." 

By  some  these  questions  are  supposed  to  describe 
sarcastically  the  savourless  words  of  Eliphaz,  his 
"  solemn  and  impertinent  prosing."  This,  however, 
would  break  the  continuity  of  the  thought.  Another  view 
makes  the  reference  to  be  to  Job's  afflictions,  which  he 
is  supposed  to  compare  to  insipid  and  loathsome  food. 
But  it  seems  quite  unnatural  to  take  this  as  the 
meaning.  Such  pain  and  grief  and  loss  as  he  had 
undergone  were  certainly  not  like  the  white  of  an  egg. 
But  he  has  already  spoken  wildly,  unreasonably,  and 
he  now  feels  himself  to  be  on  the  point  of  breaking  out 
afresh  in  similar  impatient  language.  Now,  the  wild 
ass  does  not  complain  when  it  has  grass,  nor  the  ox 
when  it  has  fodder ;  so,  if  his  mind  were  supplied  with 
necessary  explanations  of  the  sore  troubles  he  is 
enduring,  he    would   not    be   impatient,  he  would  not 


vi.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  123 


complain.  His  soul  hungers  to  know  the  reasons  of 
the  calamities  that  darken  his  life.  Nothing  that  has 
been  said  helps  him.  Every  suggestion  presented  to 
his  mind  is  either  trifling  and  vain,  without  the  salt  of 
wisdom,  like  the  white  of  an  egg,  or  offensive,  dis- 
agreeable. Ruthlessly  sincere,  he  will  not  pretend  to 
be  satisfied  when  he  is  not.  His  soul  refuses  to  touch 
the  offered  explanations  and  reasons.  Verily,  they  are 
like  mouldy  bread  to  him.  It  is  his  own  impatience, 
his  loud  cries  and  inquiries,  he  desires  to  account  for; 
he  does  not  attack  Eliphaz  with  sarcasm,  but  defends 
himself. 

At  this  point  there  is  a  brief  halt  in  the  speech.  As 
if  after  a  pause,  due  to  a  sharp  sting  of  pain.  Job 
exclaims  :  *'  Oh  that  God  would  please  to  destroy  me  !  " 
He  had  felt  the  paroxysm  approaching ;  he  had 
endeavoured  to  restrain  himself,  but  the  torture  drives 
him,  as  before,  to  cry  for  death.  Again  and  again  in 
the  course  of  his  speeches  sudden  turns  of  this  kind 
occur,  points  at  which  the  dram.atic  feeling  of  the  writer 
comes  out.  He  will  have  us  remember  the  terrible 
disease  and  keep  continually  in  mind  the  setting  of 
the  thoughts.  Job  had  roused  himself  in  beginning  his 
reply,  and,  for  a  little,  eagerness  had  overcome  pain. 
But  now  he  falls  back,  mastered  by  cruel  sickness 
which  appears  to  be  unto  death.     Then  he  speaks : — 

"  Oh  that  I  might  have  my  request, 
That  God  would  give  me  the  thing  I  long  for, 
Even  that  God  would  be  pleased  to  crush  me. 
That  He  would  loose  His  hand  and  tear  me  off; 
And  I  sJiould yet  have  comfort, 
I  should  even  exult  amidst  unsparing  pain, 
For  I  have  not  denied  the  zvords  of  the  Holy  One.'" 

The  longing  for  death  which  now  returns  on  Job  is 


124  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

not  SO  passionate  as  before ;  but  hjs  cry  is  quite  as 
urgent  and  unqualified.  As  we  have  already  seen,  no 
motion  towards  suicide  is  at  any  point  of  the  drama 
attributed  to  him.  He  does  not,  like  Shakespeare's 
Hamlet,  whose  position  is  in  some  respects  very 
similar,  question  with  himself, 

"Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer 
The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune, 
Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles, 
And  by  opposing  end  them?  " 

Nor  may  we  say  that  Job  is  deterred  from  the  act  of 
self-destruction  by  Hamlet's  thought,  "  The  dread  of 
something  after  death  "  that 

"  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of." 

Job  has  the  fear  and  faith  of  God  still,  and  not  even 
the  pressure  of  ''unsparing  pain"  can  move  him  to 
take  into  his  own  hands  the  ending  of  that  torment 
God  bids  him  bear.  He  is  too  pious  even  to  dream  of 
it.  A  true  Oriental,  with  strong  belief  that  the  will 
of  God  must  be  done,  he  could  die  without  a  murmur, 
in  more  than  stoical  courage ;  but  a  suicide  he  cannot 
be.  And  indeed  the  Bible,  telling  us  for  the  most  part 
of  men  of  healthy  mind,  has  few  suicides  to  record. 
Saul,  Zimri,  Ahithophel,  Judas,  break  away  thus  from 
dishonour  and  doom ;  but  these  are  all  who,  in 
impatience  and  cowardice,  turn  against  God's  decree 
of  hfe. 

Here,  then,  the  strong  religious  feeling  of  the  writer 
obliges  him  to  reject  that  which  the  poets  of  the  world 
have  used  to  give  the  strongest  effect  to  their  work. 
From  the  Greek  dramatists,  through  Shakespeare  to 
Browning,   the   drama  is  full  of  that  quarrel  with  Hfe 


'ii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  125 


which  flies  to  suicide.  In  this  great  play,  as  we  may 
well  call  it,  of  Semitic  faith  and  genius,  the  ideas  are 
masterly,  the  hold  of  universal  truth  is  sublime. 
Perhaps  the  author  was  not  fully  aware  of  all  he 
suggests,  but  he  feels  that  suicide  serves  no  end  :  it 
settles  nothing;  and  his  problem  must  be  settled. 
Suicide  is  an  attempt  at  evasion  in  a  sphere  where 
evasion  is  impossible.  God  and  the  soul  have  a  con- 
troversy together,  and  the  controversy  must  be  worked 
out  to  an  issue. 

Job  has  not  cursed  God  nor  denied  his  words. 
With  this  clear  conscience  he  is  not  afraid  to  die ;  yet, 
to  keep  it,  he  must  wait  on  the  decision  of  the  Almighty 
— that  it  would  please  God  to  crush  him,  or  tear  him 
off  like  a  branch  from  the  tree  of  life.  The  prospect 
of  death,  if  it  were  granted  by  God,  would  revive  him 
for  the  last  moment  of  endurance.  He  would  leap 
up  to  meet  the  stroke,  God's  stroke,  the  pledge  that 
God  was  kind  to  him  after  all. 

"Where  he  stands,  the  Arch  Fear  in  a  visible  form, 

Yet  the  strong  man  must  go : 
For  the  journey  is  done  and  the  summit  attained, 

And  the  barriers  fall, 
Though  a  battle's  to  fight  ere  the  guerdon  be  gained, 

The  reward  of  it  all.  .  .  . 
I  would  hate  that  death  bandaged  my  eyes,  and  forbore. 

And  bade  me  creep  past." 

According  to  Eliphaz  there  was  but  one  way  for  a 
sufferer.  If  Job  would  bow  humbly  in  acknowledgment 
of  guilt,  and  seek  God  in  penitence,  then  recovery 
would  come  ;  the  hand  that  smote  would  heal  and  set 
him  on  high  ;  all  the  joy  and  vigour  of  life  would  be 
renewed,  and  after  another  loiig  course  of  prosperity, 
he  should  come  to  his  grave  at  last  as  a  shock  of  corn 


126  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB 


is  carried  home  in  its  season.  Recalling  this  glib 
promise,  Job  puts  it  from  him  as  altogether  incongruous 
with  his  state.     He  is  a  leper  ;  he  is  dying. 

"  What  is  my  strength  that  I  should  wait, 
And  what  my  term  that  I  should  be  patient  ? 
Is  my  strength  the  strength  of  stones  ? 
Is  my  flesh  brass  ? 
Is  not  my  help  within  me  gone, 
And  energy  quite  driven  from  me  !*" 

Why,  his  condition  is  hopeless.  What  can  he  look 
for  but  death  ?  Speak  to  him  of  a  new  term  ;  it  was 
adding  mockery  to  despair.  But  he  would  die  still  true 
to  God,  and  therefore  he  seeks  the  end  of  conflict. 
If  he  were  to  live  on  he  could  not  be  sure  of  himself, 
especially  when,  with  failing,  strength,  he  had  to  endure 
the  nausea  and  stings  of  disease.  As  yet  he  can  face 
death  as  a  chief  should. 

The  second  part  of  the  address  begins  at  the  four- 
teenth verse  of  chap.  vi.  Here  Job  rouses  himself 
anew,  and  this  time  to  assail  his  friends.  The  language 
of  their  spokesman  had  been  addressed  to  him  from 
a  height  of  assumed  moral  superiority,  and  this  had 
stirred  in  Job  a  resentment  quite  natural.  No  doubt 
the  three  friends  showed  friendliness.  He  could  not 
forget  the  long  journey  they  had  made  to  bring  him 
comfort.  But  when  he  bethought  him  how  in  his 
prosperity  he  had  often  entertained  these  men,  held 
high  discourse  with  them  on  the  ways  of  God,  opened 
his  heart  and  showed  them  all  his  life,  he  marvelled 
that  now  they  could  fail  of  the  thing  he  most  wanted 
— understanding.  The  knowledge  they  had  of  him 
should  have  made  suspicion  impossible,  for  they  had 
the  testimony  of  his  whole    life.     The    author  is  not 


•ii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  127 


unfair  to  his  champions  of  orthodoxy.  They  fail  where 
all  such  have  a  way  of  failing.  If  their  victim  in  the  poem 
presses  on  to  stinging  sarcasm  and  at  last  oversteps 
the  bounds  of  fair  criticism,  one  need  not  wonder.  He 
is  not  intended  as  a  type  of  the  meek,  self-depreciating 
person  who  lets  slander  pass  without  a  protest.  If 
they  have  treated  him  badly,  he  will  tell  them  to  their 
faces  what  he  thinks.  Their  want  of  justice  might 
cause  a  weak  man  to  slip  and  lose  himself. 

"  Pity  from  his  fn end  is  due  to  the  despairing, 
Lest  he  forsake  the  fear  of  the  Almighty  : 
But  my  brethren  have  deceived  as  a  torrent, 
Like  the  streams  of  the  ravine,  that  pass  away, 
That  become  blackish  with  ice, 
In  which  the  snow  is  dissolved. 
What  time  they  wax  warm  they  vanish. 
When  it  is  hot  they  are  dried  up  out  of  their  place. 
Tlie  caravans  turn  aside. 
They  go  up  into  the  desert  and  are  perishing. 
The  caravans  of  Tenia  look  out. 
The  merchants  of  Sheba  hope  for  them. 
They  were  ashamed  because  they  had  trusted. 
They  carne  up  to  than  and  blushed. 
Even  so,  now  are  ye  novtght,'' 

The  poetical  genius  of  the  writer  overflows  here. 
The  allegory  is  beautiful,  the  wit  keen,  the  knowledge 
abundant ;  yet,  in  a  sense,  we  have  to  pardon  the 
interposition.  Job  is  not  quite  in  the  mood  to  repre- 
sent his  disappointment  by  such  an  elaborate  picture. 
He  would  naturally  seek  a  sharper  mode  of  expression. 
Still,  the  passage  must  not  be  judged  by  our  modern 
dramatic  rules.  This  is  the  earliest  example  of  the 
philosophic  story,  and  elaborate  word-pictures  are  part 
of  the  literature  of  the  piece.  We  accept  the  pleasure 
of  following  a  description  which  Job  must  be  supposed 
to  have  painted  in  melancholy  humour. 


128  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

The  scene  is  in  the  desert,  several  days'  journe}^  from 
the  Jauf,  that  valley  already  identified  as  the  region 
in  which  Job  lived.  Beyond  the  Nefood  to  the  west 
towers  the  Jebel  Tobeyk,  a  high  ridge  covered  in 
winter  with  deep  snow,  the  melting  of  which  fills  the 
ravines  with  roaring  streams.  Caravans  are  coming 
across  the  desert  from  Tema,  which  lies  seven  days' 
journey  to  the  south  of  the  Jauf,  and  from  Sheba  still 
farther  in  the  same  direction.  They  are  on  the  march 
in  early  summer  and,  falling  short  of  water,  turn  aside 
westward  to  one  of  the  ravines  where  a  stream  is  ex- 
pected to  be  still  flowing.  But,  alas  for  the  vain  hope  ! 
In  the  wadi  is  nothing  but  stones  and  dry  sand,  mocking 
the  thirst  of  man  and  beast.  Even  so,  says  Job  to  his 
friends,  ye  are  treacherous ;  ye  are  nothing.  I  looked 
for  the  refreshing  water  of  sympathy,  but  ye  are  empty 
ravines,  dry  sand.  In  my  days  of  prosperity  you 
gushed  with  friendliness.  Now,  when  I  thirst,  ye  have 
not  even  pity.  ''  Ye  see  a  terror,  and  are  afraid."  I 
am  terribly  stricken.  You  fear  that  if  you  sympathised 
with  me,  you  might  provoke  the  anger  of  God. 

From  this  point  he  turns  upon  them  with  reproach. 
Had  he  asked  them  for  anything,  gifts  out  of  their 
herds  or  treasure,  aid  in  recovering  his  property? 
They  knew  he  had  requested  no  such  service.  But 
again  and  again  Eliphaz  had  made  the  suggestion  that 
he  was  suffering  as  a  wrong-doer.  Would  they  tell 
him  then,  straightforwardly,  how  and  when  he  had 
transgressed?  "How  forcible  are  words  of  upright- 
ness," words  that  go  right  to  a  point ;  but  as  for  their 
reproving,  what  did  it  come  to  ?  They  had  caught  at 
his  complaint.  Men  of  experience  should  know  that 
the  talk  of  a  desperate  man  is  for  the  wind,  to  be  blown 
awa}^  and  forgotten,  not  to  be  laid  hold  of  captiously. 


i.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  129 


And  here  from  sarcasm  he  passes  to  invective.  Their 
temper,  he  tells  them,  is  so  hard  and  unfeeling  that 
they  are  fit  to  cast  lots  over  the  orphan  and  bargain 
over  a  friend.  They  would  be  guilty  even  of  selling 
for  a  slave  a  poor  fatherless  child  cast  on  their  charity. 
"  Be  pleased  to  look  on  me,"  he  cries  ;  "  I  surely  will 
not  lie  to  your  face.  Return,  let  not  wrong  be  done. 
Go  back  over  my  life.  Let  there  be  no  unfairness. 
Still  is  my  cause  just."  They  were  bound  to  admit 
that  he  was  as  able  to  distinguish  right  from  wrong  as 
they  were.  If  that  were  not  granted,  then  his  whole 
life  went  for  nothing,  and  their  friendship  also. 

In  this  vivid  eager  expostulation  there  is  at  least 
much  of  human  nature.  It  abounds  in  natural  touches 
common  to  all  time  and  in  shrewd  ironic  perception. 
The  sarcasms  of  Job  bear  not  only  upon  his  friends, 
but  also  upon  our  lives.  The  words  of  men  who  are 
sorely  tossed  with  trouble,  aye  even  their  deeds,  are  to 
be  judged  with  full  allov/ance  for  circumstances.  A 
man  driven  back  inch  by  inch  in  a  fight  with  the  world, 
irritated  by  defeat,  thwarted  in  his  plans,  missing  his 
calculations,  how  easy  is  it  to  criticise  him  from  the 
standpoint  of  a  successful  career,  high  repute,  a  good 
balance  at  the  banker's  !  The  hasty  words  of  one  who 
is  in  sore  distress,  due  possibly  to  his  own  ignorance 
and  carelessness,  how  easy  to  reckon  them  against  him, 
find  in  them  abundant  proof  that  he  is  an  unbeliever 
and  a  knave,  and  so  pass  on  to  offer  in  the  temple  the 
Pharisee's  prayer  !  But,  easy  and  natural,  it  is  base. 
The  author  of  our  poem  does  well  to  lay  the  lash  of 
his  inspired  scorn  upon  such  a  temper.  He  who  stores 
in  memory  the  quick  words  of  a  sufferer  and  brings 
them  up  by  and  by  to  prove  him  deserving  of  ail  his 
troubles,  such  a  man  would  cast  lots  over  the  orphan. 

9 


I3C  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

It  is  no  unfair  charge.  Oh*for  humane  feeHng,  gentle 
truth,  self-searching  fear  of  falsehood  !  It  is  so  easy 
to  be  hard  and  pious. 

Beginning  another  strophe  Job  turns  from  his  friends, 
from  would-be  wise  assertions  and  innuendoes,  to  find,  if 
he  can,  a  philosophy  of  human  life,  then  to  reflect  once 
more  in  sorrow  on  his  state,  and  finally  to  wrestle  in 
urgent  entreaty  with  the  Most  High.  The  seventh 
chapter,  in  which  we  trace  this  line  of  thought,  in- 
creases in  pathos  as  it  proceeds  and  rises  to  the  climax 
of  a  most  daring  demand  which  is  not  blasphemous 
because  it  is  entirely  frank,  profoundly  earnest. 

The  friends  of  Job  have  wondered  at  his  sufferings. 
He  himself  has  tried  to  find  the  reason  of  them.  Now 
he  seeks  it  again  in  a  survey  of  man's  life  : — 

'^  Hath  not  man  luar  service  on  earth  ? 
And  as  the  days  of  an  hireling  are  not  his  ?  " 

The  thought  of  necessity  is  coming  over  Job,  that  man 
is  not  his  own  master ;  that  a  Power  he  cannot  resist 
appoints  his  task,  whether  of  action  or  endurance,  to 
fight  in  the  hot  battle  or  to  suffer  wearily.  And  there 
is  truth  in  the  conception  ;  only  it  is  a  truth  which  is 
inspiring  or  depressing  as  the  ultimate  Power  is  found 
in  noble  character  or  mindless  force.  In  the  time  of 
prosperity  this  thought  of  an  inexorable  decree  would 
have  caused  no  perplexity  to  Job,  and  his  judgment 
would  have  been  that  the  Irresistible  is  wise  and  kind. 
But  now,  because  the  shadow  has  fallen,  all  appears  in 
gloomy  colour,  and  man's  life  a  bitter  servitude.  As 
a  slave,  panting  for  the  shade,  longing  to  have  his 
work  over.  Job  considers  man.  During  months  of 
vanity  and  nights  of  weariness  he  waits,  long  nights 


vi.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  131 


made  dreary  with  pain,  through  the  slow  hours  of 
which  he  tosses  to  and  fro  in  misery.  His  flesh  is 
clothed  with  worms  and  an  earthy  crust,  his  skin 
hardens  and  breaks  out.  His  days  are  flimsier  than  a 
web  (ver.  6),  and  draw  to  a  close  without  hope.  The 
wretchedness  masters  him,  and  he  cries  to  God. 

"  O  remember,  a  breath  is  my  life  ; 
Never  again  ivill  mine  eye  see 


Does  the  Almighty  consider  how  httle  time  is  left  to 
him  ?  Surely  a  gleam  might  break  before  all  grows 
dark  !  Out  of  sight  he  will  be  soon,  yea,  out  of  the 
sight  of  God  Himself,  like  a  cloud  that  melts  away. 
His  place  will  be  down  in  Sheol,  the  region  of  mere 
existence,  not  of  life,  where  a  man's  being  dissolves 
in  shadows  and  dreams.  God  must  know  this  is 
coming  to  Job.  Yet  in  anguish,  ere  he  die,  he  will 
remonstrate  with  his  Maker :  "  I  will  not  curb  my 
mouth,  I  will  make  my  complaint  in  the  bitterness  of 
my  soul." 

Striking  indeed  is  the  remonstrance  that  follows. 
A  struggle  against  that  belief  in  grim  fate  which  has 
so  injured  Oriental  character  gives  vehemence  to  his 
appeal ;  for  God  must  not  be  lost.  His  mind  is 
represented  as  going  abroad  to  find  in  nature  what  is 
most  ungovernable  and  may  be  supposed  to  require 
most  surveillance  and  restraint.  By  change  after 
change,  stroke  after  stroke,  his  power  has  been  curbed  ; 
till  at  last,  in  abject  impotence,  he  lies,  a  wreck  upon 
the  wayside.  Nor  is  he  allowed  the  last  solace  of 
nature  in  extremis ;  he  is  not  unconscious  ;  he  cannot 
sleep  away  his  misery.  By  night  tormenting  dreams 
haunt  him,  and  visions  make  as  it  were  a  terrible  wall 
against    him.       He    exists    on    sufferance,    perpetually 


132  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

chafed.  With  all  this  in  his  consciousness,  he 
asks, — 

"  Ant  I  a  sea,  or  a  sea-monster, 
Thai  thou  keepest  watch  over  me  ?  " 

In  a  daring  figure  he  imagines  the  Most  High  who 
sets  a  bound  to  the  sea  exercising  the  same  restraint 
over  him,  or  barring  his  way  as  if  he  were  some  huge 
monster  of  the  deep.  A  certain  grim  humour  charac- 
terises the  picture.  His  friends  have  denounced  his  im- 
petuosity. Is  it  as  fierce  in  God's  sight  ?  Can  his  rage 
be  so  wild  ?  Strange  indeed  is  the  restraint  put  on  one 
conscious  of  having  sought  to  serve  God  and  his  age. 
In  self-pity,  with  an  inward  sense  of  the  absurdity  of 
the  notion,  he  fancies  the  Almighty  fencing  his  squalid 
couch  with  the  horrible  dreams  and  spectres  of  delirium, 
barring  his  way  as  if  he  were  a  raging  flood.  "  I 
loathe  life,"  he  cries  ;  "  I  would  not  live  always.  Let 
me  alone,  for  my  days  are  a  vapour."  Do  not  pain  me 
and  hem  me  in  with  Thy  terrors  that  allow  no  freedom, 
no  hope,  nothing  but  a  weary  sense  of  impotence. 
And  then  his  expostulation  becomes  even  bolder. 

"  What  is  man,"  asks  a  psalmist,  '*  that  Thou  art 
mindful  of  him,  and  the  son  of  man,  that  Thou  visitest 
him  ?  "  With  amazement  God's  thought  of  so  puny  and 
insignificant  a  being  is  observed.  But  Job,  marking  in 
like  manner  the  littleness  of  man,  turns  the  question 
in  another  way  : — 

"  IVIiat  is  man  that  Thou  magnifiest  him, 
And  scttest  Thine  heart  upon  him  ? 
That  Thou  visitest  him  every  morning, 
And  triest  him  every  moment  ?" 

Has  the  Almighty  no  greater  thing  to  engage  Him 
that  He  presses  hard  on  the  slight  personality  of  man  ? 


vi.,vii.]  MEN  FALSE:    GOD   OVERBEARING.  133 

Might  he  not  be  let  alone  for  a  little  ?  Might  the 
watchful  eye  not  be  turned  away  from  him  even  for 
a  moment  ? 

And  finally,  coming  to  the  supposition  that  he  ma} 
have  transgressed  and  brought  himself  under  the  judg- 
ment of  the  Most  High,  he  even  dares  to  ask  why  that 
should  be  : — 

"  Have  I  sinned?     Yet  what  have  I  dojie  unto  Thee, 
O  Thou  Watcher  of  men  ? 
Why  hast  Thou  set  me  as  Thy  butt, 
So  that  I  am  a  burden  to  myself  ? 
And  ivhy  wilt  Thou  not  pardon  my  tra/isgression, 
And  cause  my  sin  to  pass  away  ?" 

How  can  his  sin  have  injured  God  ?  Far  above 
man  the  Almighty  dwells  and  reigns.  No  shock  of 
human  revolt  can  affect  His  throne.  Strange  is  it  that 
a  man,  even  if  he  has  committed  some  fault  or  neglected 
some  duty,  should  be  like  a  block  of  wood  or  stone 
before  the  feet  of  the  Most  High,  till  bruised  and  broken 
he  cares  no  more  for  existence.  If  iniquity  has  been 
done,  cannot  the  Great  God  forgive  it,  pass  it  by  ? 
That  would  be  more  like  the  Great  God.  Yes ;  soon 
Job  would  be  down  in  the  dust  of  death.  The  Almighty 
would  find  then  that  he  had  gone  too  far.  *'  Thou 
shalt  seek  me,  but  I  shall  not  be." 

More  daring  words  were  never  put  by  a  pious  man 
into  the  mouth  of  one  represented  as  pious  ;  and  the 
whole  passage  shows  how  daring  piety  may  be.  The 
inspired  writer  of  this  book  knows  God  too  well, 
honours  Him  too  profoundly  to  be  afraid.  The  Eternal 
Father  does  not  watch  keenly  for  the  offences  of  the 
creatures  He  has  made.  May  a  man  not  be  frank  with 
God  and  say  out  what  is  in  his  heart  ?  Surely  he  may. 
But  he  must  be  entirely  earnest.     No  one  playing  with 


134  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB, 

life,  with  duty,  with  truth,  or  with  doubt  may  expos- 
tulate thus  with  his  Maker. 

There  is  indeed  an  aspect  of  our  little  life  in  which 
sin  may  appear  too  pitiful,  too  impotent  for  God  to 
search  out.  '^As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass;  as  a 
flower  of  the  field,  so  he  flourisheth."  Only  when  we 
see  that  infinite  Justice  is  involved  in  the  minute 
infractions  of  justice,  that  it  must  redress  the  iniquity 
done  by  feeble  hands  and  vindicate  the  ideal  we  crave  for 
yet  so  often  infringe ;  only  when  we  see  this  and  realise 
therewith  the  greatness  of  our  being,  made  for  justice 
and  the  ideal,  for  moral  conflict  and  victory ;  only,  in 
short,  when  we  know  responsibility,  do  we  stand  aghast 
at  sin  and  comprehend  the  meaning  of  judgment.  Job 
is  learning  here  the  wisdom  and  holiness  of  God  which 
stand  correlative  to  His  grace,  and  our  responsibility. 
By  way  of  trial  and  pain  and  these  sore  battles  with 
doubt  he  is  entering  into  the  fulness  of  the  heritage  of 
spiritual  knowledge  and  power. 


IX. 

VENTURESOME     THEOLOGY. 

BiLDAD    SPEAKS.       ChAP.    viii. 

THE  first  attempt  to  meet  Job  has  been  made  by 
one  who  relies  on  his  own  experience  and  takes 
pleasure  in  recounting  the  things  which  he  has  seen. 
Bildad  of  Shuach,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  man  who 
holds  to  the  wisdom  of  the  fathers  and  supports 
himself  at  all  times  with  their  answers  to  the  questions 
of  life.  Vain  to  him  is  the  reasoning  of  one  who  sees 
all  as  through  coloured  glass,  everything  of  this  tint 
or  that,  according  to  his  state  or  notions  for  the  time 
being.  The  personal  impression  counts  for  nothing 
with  Bildad.  He  finds  no  authority  there.  In  him  we 
have  the  catholic  theologian  opposing  individualism. 
Unfortunately  he  fails  in  the  power  most  needed,  of 
distinguishing  chaff  from  grain.  Back  to  antiquity, 
back  to  the  fathers,  say  some  ;  but,  although  they  profess 
the  excellent  temper  of  reverence,  there  is  no  guarantee 
that  they  will  not  select  the  follies  of  the  past  instead 
of  its  wisdom  to  admire.  Everything  depends  upon 
the  man,  the  individual,  after  all,  whether  he  has  an 
open  mind,  a  preference  if  not  a  passion  for  great 
ideas.  There  are  those  who  go  back  to  the  apostles 
and  find  only  dogmatism,  instead  of  the  glorious  breadth 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


of  Divine  poetry  and  hope.  Yea,  some  go  to  the  Light 
of  the  World,  and  report  as  their  discovery  some  prag- 
matical scheme,  some  weak  arrangement  of  details,  a 
bondage  or  a  futility.  Bildad  is  not  one  of  these. 
He  is  intelligent  and  well-informed,  an  able  man, 
as  we  say  ;  but  he  has  no  sympathy  with  new  ideas 
that  burst  the  old  wine-skins  of  tradition,  no  sympathy 
with  daring  words  that  throw  doubt  on  old  ortho- 
doxies. You  can  fancy  his  pious  horror  when  the 
rude  hand  of  Job  seemed  to  rend  the  sacred  garments 
of  established  truth.  It  would  have  been  like  him  to 
turn  away  and  leave  to  fate  and  judgment  a  man, so 
venturesome. 

With  the  instinct  of  the  highest  and  noblest  thought, 
utterly  removed  from  all  impiety,  the  writer  has  shown 
his  inspiration  in  leading  Job  to  a  climax  of  impassioned 
inquiry  as  one  who  wrestles  in  the  swellings  of  Jordan 
with  the  angel  of  Jehovah.  Now  he  brings  forward 
Bildad  speaking  cold  words  from  a  mind  quite  unable 
to  understand  the  crisis.  This  is  a  man  who  firmly 
believed  himself  possessed  of  authority  and  insight. 
When  Job  added  entreaty  to  entreaty,  demand  to 
demand,  Bildad  would  feel  as  if  his  ears  were  deceiving 
him,  for  what  he  heard  seemed  to  be  an  impious 
assault  on  the  justice  of  the  Most  High,  an  attempt  to 
convict  the  Infinitely  Righteous  of  unrighteousness. 
He  burns  to  speak;  and  Job  has  no  sooner  sunk  down 
exhausted  than  he  begins  : — 

"  How  long  wilt  thou  speak  these  things  ? 
A  mighty  zvind,  forsooth,  are  the  words  of  thy  mouth. 
God : — ivill  He  pervert  jiidgtnent  ? 
Almighty  God : — will  He  pervert  righteousness  ? 
If  thy  children  sinned  against  Him, 
And  He  cast  them  away  into  the  hand  of  their  rebellion; 
If  thou  wilt  seek  utito  God, 


viii.]  VENTURESOME   THEOLOGY.  .     137 


And  unto  the  Almighty  wilt  make  entreaty  ; 

If  spotless  and  upright  thou  art, 

Surely  now  He  would  awake  for  thee 

And  make  prosperous  thy  righteous  habitation. 

So  that  thy  beginning  shall  prove  small 

And  thy  latter  end  exceedingly  great.''' 

How  far  wrong  Bildad  is  may  be  seen  in  this,  that 
he  dangles  before  Job  the  hope  of  greater  worldly 
prosperity.  The  children  must  have  sinned,  for  they 
have  perished.  Yet  Job  himself  may  possibly  be 
innocent.  If  he  is,  then  a  simple  entreaty  to  God  will 
insure  His  renewed  favour  and  help.  Job  is  required  to 
seek  wealth  and  greatness  again  as  a  pledge  of  his  own 
uprightness.  But  the  whole  difficulty  lies  in  the  fact 
that,  being  upright,  he  has  been  plunged  into  poverty, 
desolation,  and  a  living  death.  He  desires  to  know  the 
reason  of  what  has  occurred.  Apart  altogether  from 
the  restoration  of  his  prosperity  and  health,  he  would 
know  what  God  means.  Bildad  does  not  see  this  in- 
the  least.  Himself  a  prosperous  man,  devoted  to  the 
doctrine  that  opulence  is  the  proof  of  religious  accept- 
ance and  security,  he  has  nothing  for  Job  but  the 
advice  to  get  God  to  prove  him  righteous  by  giving 
him  back  his  goods.  There  is  a  taunt  in  Bildad's 
speech.  He  privately  believes  that  there  has  been  sin, 
and  that  only  by  way  of  repentance  good  can  come 
again.  Since  his  friend  is  so  obstinate  let  him  try 
to  regain  his  prosperity  and  fail.  Bildad  is  lavish 
in  promises,  extravagant  indeed.  He  can  only  be 
acquitted  of  a  sinister  meaning  in  his  large  prediction 
if  we  judge  that  he  reckons  God  to  be  under  a  debt 
to  a  faithful  servant  whom  He  had  unwittingly,  while 
He  was  not  observing,  allowed  to  be  overtaken  by 
disaster. 


138  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

Next  the  speaker  parades  his  learning,  the  wisdom 
he  had  gathered  from  the  past : — 

^^  Inquircy  I  pray  thee,  of  the  bygone  age, 
And  attend  to  the  research  0/  their  fathers. 
{For  we  are  but  of  yesterday  and  know  nothing ; 
A  shadow,  indeed,  are  our  days  upon  the  earth) — 
Shall  not  they  teach  thee  and  tell  thee, 
Bring  forth  words  from  their  heart  /"' 

The  man  of  to-day  is  nothing,  a  poor  creature.  Only 
by  the  proved  wisdom  of  the  long  ages  can  end  come  to 
controversy.     Let  Job  listen,  then,  and  be  convinced. 

Now  it  must  be  owned  there  is  not  simply  an  air  of 
truth  but  truth  itself  in  what  Bildad  proceeds  to  say 
in  the  very  picturesque  passage  that  follows.  Truths, 
however,  may  be  taken  hold  of  in  a  wrong  way  to 
establish  false  conclusions  ;  and  in  this  way  Job's  interlo- 
cutor errs  with  not  a  few  of  his  painstaking  successors. 
The  rush  or  papyrus  of  the  river-side  cannot  grow 
without  mire ;  the  reed-grass  needs  moisture.  If  the 
water  fails  they  wither.  So  are  the  paths  of  all  that 
forget  God.  Yes  :  if  you  take  it  aright,  what  can  be 
more  impressively  certain  ?  The  hope  of  a  godless 
man  perishes.  His  confidence  is  cut  off;  it  is  as  if  he 
trusted  in  a  spider's  web.  Even  his  house,  however 
strongly  built,  shall  not  support  him.  The  man  who 
has  abandoned  God  must  come  to  this — that  every 
earthly  stay  shall  snap  asunder,  every  expectation  fade. 
There  shall  be  nothing  between  him  and  despair.  His 
strength,  his  wisdom,  his  inheritance,  his  possessions 
piled  together  in  abundance,  how  can  they  avail  when 
the  demand  is  urged  by  Divine  justice — What  hast  thou 
done  with  thy  life  ?  This,  however,  is  not  at  all  in 
Bildad's  mind.  He  is  not  thinking  of  the  prosperity  of 
the  soul  and  exultation  in  God,  but  of  outward  success, 


viii.]  VENTURESOME   THEOLOGY.  139 

that  a  man  should  spread  his  visible  existence  like  a 
green  bay  tree.  Beyond  that  visible  existence  he  cannot 
stretch  thought  or  reasoning.  His  school,  generally, 
believed  in  God  much  after  the  manner  of  English 
eighteenth-century  deists,  standing  on  the  earth,  looking 
over  the  life  of  man  here,  and  demanding  in  the  present 
world  the  vindication  of  providence.  The  position  is 
realistic,  the  good  of  life  solely  mundane.  If  one  is 
brought  low  who  flourished  in  luxuriance  and  sent 
forth  his  shoots  over  the  garden  and  was  rooted  near 
the  spring,  his  poverty  is  his  destruction ;  he  is 
destroyed  because  somehow  the  law  of  life,  that  is  of 
prosperity,  has  been  transgressed,  and  the  God  of 
success  punishes  the  fault.  We  are  made  to  feel  that 
beneath  the  promise  of  returning  honour  and  joy  with 
which  Bildad  closes  there  is  an  if.  "  God  will  not  cast 
away  a  perfect  man."  Is  Job  perfect  ?  Then  his  mouth 
will  be  filled  with  laughter,  and  his  haters  shall  be 
clothed  with  shame.  That  issue  is  problematical.  And 
yet,  on  the  whole,  doubt  is  kept  well  in  the  background, 
and  the  final  word  of  cheer  is  made  as  generous  and 
hopeful  as  circumstances  will  allow.  Bildad  means  to 
leave  the  impression  on  Job's  mind  that  the  wisdom  of 
the  ancients  as  applied  to  his  case  is  reassuring. 

But  one  sentence  of  his  speech,  that  in  which  (ver.  4) 
he  implies  the  behef  that  Job's  children  had  sinned  and 
been  ''cast  away  into  the  hand  of  their  rebelHon,"  shows 
the  cold,  relentless  side  of  his  orthodoxy,  the  logic,  not 
unknown  still,  which  presses  to  its  point  over  the  whole 
human  race.  Bildad  meant,  it  appears,  to  shift  from 
Job  the  burden  of  his  children's  fate.  The  catastrophe 
which  overtook  them  might  have  seemed  to  be  one  of  the 
arrows  of  judgment  aimed  at  the  father.  Job  himself 
may  have  had  great  perplexity  as  well  as  keen  distress 


140  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

whenever  he  thought  of  his  sons  and  daughters.  Now 
Bildad  is  throwing  on  them  the  guilt  which  he  beheves 
to  have  been  so  terribly  punished,  even  to  the  extremity 
of  irremediable  death.  But  there  is  no  enlightenment 
in  the  suggestion.  Rather  does  it  add  to  the  difficulties 
of  the  case.  The  sons  and  daughters  whom  Job  loved, 
over  whom  he  watched  with  such  religious  care  lest  they 
should  renounce  God  in  their  hearts — were  they  con- 
demned by  the  Most  High  ?  A  man  of  the  old  world, 
accustomed  to  think  of  himself  as  standing  in  God's 
stead  to  his  household,  Job  cannot  receive  this.  Thought 
having  been  once  stirred  to  its  depths,  he  is  resentful 
now  against  a  doctrine  that  may  never  before  have 
been  questioned.  Is  there,  then,  no  fatherhood  in  the 
Almighty,  no  magnanimity  such  as  Job  himself  would 
have  shown  ?  If  so,  then  the  spirit  would  fail  before 
Him,  and  the  souls  which  He  has  made  (Isaiah  Ivii.  i6). 
The  dogmatist  with  his  wisdom  of  the  ages  drops  in 
the  by-going  one  of  his  commonplaces  of  theological 
thought.  It  is  a  coal  of  fire  in  the  heart  of  the  sufferer. 
Those  who  attempt  to  explain  God's  ways  for  edifi- 
cation and  comfort  need  to  be  very  simple  and  genuine 
in  their  feeling  with  men,  their  effort  on  behalf  of  God. 
Every  one  who  believes  and  thinks  has  something  in 
his  spiritual  experience  worth  recounting,  and  may  help 
an  afflicted  brother  by  retracing  his  own  history.  But 
to  make  a  creed  learned  by  rote  the  basis  of  consolation 
is  perilous.  The  aspect  it  takes  to  those  under  trial 
will  often  surprise  the  best-meaning  consoler.  A  point 
is  emphasised  by  the  keen  mind  of  sorrow,  and,  Hke 
Elijah's  cloud,  it  soon  sweeps  over  the  whole  sky,  a 
storm  of  doubt  and  dismay. 


X. 

THE   THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN. 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  ix.,  x. 

IT  is  with  an  infinitely  sad  restatement  of  what  God 
has  been  made  to  appear  to  him  by  Bildad's  speech 
that  Job  begins  his  reply.  Yes,  yes ;  it  is  so.  How 
can  man  be  just  before  such  a  God  ?  You  tell  me  my 
children  are  overwhelmed  with  destruction  for  their 
sins.  You  tell  me  that  I,  who  am  not  quite  dead  as 
yet,  may  have  new  prosperity  if  I  put  myself  into  right 
relations  wath  God.  But  how  can  that  be  ?  There  is 
no  uprightness,  no  dutifulness,  no  pious  obedience,  no 
sacrifice  that  will  satisfy  Him.  I  did  my  utmost;  yet 
God  has  condemned  me.  And  if  He  is  what  you  say, 
His  condemnation  is  unanswerable.  He  has  such 
wisdom  in  devising  accusations  and  in  maintaining 
them  against  feeble  man,  that  hope  there  can  be  none 
for  any  human  being.  To  answer  one  of  the  thousand 
charges  God  can  bring,  if  He  will  contend  with  man, 
is  impossible.  The  earthquakes  are  signs  of  His  indig- 
nation, removing  mountains,  shaking  the  earth  out  of 
her  place.  He  is  able  to  quench  the  light  of  the  sun 
and  moon,  and  to  seal  up  the  stars.  What  is  man 
beside  the  omnipotence  of  Him  who  alone  stretched 
O'lt  the   heavens,  whose  march  is  on  the  huge  waves 

141 


14*  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

of  the  ocean,  who  is  the  Creator  of  the  constellations' 
the  Bear,  the  Giant,  the  Pleiades,  and  the  chambers  or 
spaces  of  the  southern  sky?  It  is  the  play  of  irresist- 
ible power  Job  traces  around  him,  and  the  Divine 
mind  or  will  is  inscrutable. 

"  Lo,  He  goeth  by  me  and  I  see  Him.  not : 
He  passeth  on,  and  I  perceive  Him  not. 
Behold,  He  seizeth.     Who  will  stay  Him  ? 
Who  will  say  to  Him,  What  doest  Thou  ?  " 

Step  by  step  the  thought  here  advances  into  that 
dreadful  imagination  of  God's  unrighteousness  which 
must  issue  in  revolt  or  in  despair.  Job,  turning  against 
the  bitter  logic  of  tradition,  appears  for  the  time  to 
plunge  into  impiety.  Sincere  earnest  thinker  as  he  is, 
he  falls  into  a  strain  we  are  almost  compelled  to  call 
false  and  blasphemous.  Bildad  and  Eliphaz  seem  to 
be  saints.  Job  a  rebel  against  God.  The  Almighty, 
he  says,  is  like  a  lion  that  seizes  the  pre}^  and  cannot 
be  hindered  from  devouring.  He  is  a  wrathful  tyrant 
under  whom  the  helpers  of  Rahab,  those  powers  that 
according  to  some  nature  myth  sustain  the  dragon  of 
the  sea  in  its  conflict  with  heaven,  stoop  and  give 
way.  Shall  Job  essay  to  answer  Him  ?  It  is  vain. 
He  cannot.  To  choose  words  in  such  a  controversy 
would  be  of  no  avail.  Even  one  right  in  his  cause 
would  be  overborne  by  tyrannical  omnipotence.  He 
would  have  no  resource  but  to  supplicate  for  mercy 
like  a  detected  malefactor.  Once  Job  may  have  thought 
that  an  appeal  to  justice  would  be  heard,  that  his  trust 
in  righteousness  was  well  founded.  He  is  falling  away 
from  that  belief  now.  This  Being  whose  despotic  power 
has  been  set  in  his  view  has  no  sense  of  man's  right 
He  cares  nothing  for  man. 


ix.,x.]  THE    THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN.  143 

What  is  God  ?     How  does  He  appear  in  the  Hght 
of  the  sufferings  of  Job? 

"  He  brcakdh  nie  with  a  tempest, 
Incrcascth  my  ivoimds  zvithout  cause. 
If  you  speak  of  the  strength  of  the  mighty, 

'  Behold  Me,'  saith  He ; 
If  of  judgment — '  Who  will  appoint  Me  a  time  ? '  " 

No  one,  that  is,  can  call  God  to  account.  The  temper 
of  the  Almighty  appears  to  Job  to  be  such  that  man 
must  needs  give  up  all  controversy.  In  his  heart  Job 
is  convinced  still  that  he  has  wrought  no  evil.  But 
he  will  not  say  so.  He  will  anticipate  the  wilful  con- 
demnation of  the  Almighty.  God  would  assail  his  life. 
Job  replies  in  fierce  revolt,  "  Assail  it,  take  it  away, 
I  care  not,  for  I  despise  it.  Whether  one  is  righteous 
or  evil,  it  is  all  the  same.  God  destroys  the  perfect 
and  the  wicked  "  (ver.  22). 

Now,  are  we  to  explain  away  this  language  ?  If  not, 
how  shall  we  defend  the  writer  who  has  put  it  into  the 
mouth  of  one  still  the  hero  of  the  book,  still  appearing 
as  a  friend  of  God  ?  To  many  in  our  day,  as  of  old, 
religion  is  so  dull  and  lifeless,  their  desire  for  the 
friendship  of  God  so  lukewarm,  that  the  passion  of  the 
words  of  Job  is  incomprehensible  to  them.  His  courage 
of  despair  belongs  to  a  range  of  feeling  they  never 
entered,  never  dreamt  of  entering.  The  calculating 
world  is  their  home,  and  in  its  frigid  atmosphere  there 
is  no  possibiHty  of  that  keen  striving  for  spiritual  life 
which  fills  the  soul  as  with  fire.  To  those  who  deny 
sin  and  pooh-pooh  anxiety  about  the  soul,  the  book 
may  well  appear  an  old-world  dream,  a  Hebrew  allegory 
rather  than  the  history  of  a  man.  But  the  language  of 
Job  is  no  outburst  of  lawlessness  ;  it  springs  out  of  deep 
and  serious  thought. 


144  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

It  is  difficult  to  find  an  exact  modern  parallel  here  ; 
but  we   have    not   to    go   far    back   for  one  who   was 
driven   like  Job  by  false   theology  into  bewilderment, 
something  like  unreason.     In  his  "  Grace  Abounding/' 
John   Bunyan   reveals   the   depths  of  fear   into   which 
hard    arguments    and    misinterpretations    of  Scripture 
often  plunged  him,  when  he  should  have  been  rejoicing 
in  the  liberty  of  a  child  of  God.     The  case  of  Bunyan 
is,  in  a  sense,  very  different  from  that  of  Job.     Yet  both 
are   urged    almost    to   despair   of  God  ;    and    Bunyan, 
realising  this  point  of  likeness,  again  and  again  uses 
words  put  into  Job's  mouth.      Doubts  and  suspicions 
are  suggested  by  his  reading,  or  by  sermons  which  he 
hears,  and  he  regards  their  occurrence  to  his  mind  as 
a  proof  of  his  wickedness.       In   one    place  he    says : 
"Now  I  thought  surely  I  am  possessed  of  the  devil: 
at  other  times  again  I   thought  I  should  be  bereft  of 
my  wits  ;  for,  instead  of  lauding  and  magnifying  God 
with    others,    if    I    have    but    heard    Him  spoken   of, 
presently  some  most  horrible  blasphemous  thought  or 
other  would  bolt  out  of  my  heart  against  Him,  so  that 
whether  I  did  think  that  God  was,  or  again  did  think 
there  was  no  such  thing,  no  love,  nor  pefUce,  nor  gracious 
disposition   could    I   feel  within   me."     Bunyan   had   a 
vivid  imagination.     He  was  haunted  by  strange  crav- 
ings for  the  spiritually  adventurous.     What  would  it 
be  to  sin  the  sin  that  is  unto  death  ?     *'  In  so  strong  a 
measure,"  he  says,  "  was  this  temptation  upon  me,  that 
often  I  have  been  ready  to  clap  my  hands  under  my 
chin  to  keep  my  mouth  from  opening."     The  idea  that 
he  should    "  sell  and  part  with  Christ  "  was  one  that 
terribly  afflicted  him ;  and,    ''  at  last,"  he  says,  "  after 
much  striving,    I   felt   this   thought   pass    through   my 
heart.  Let  Him  go  if  He  will.  .  .  .  After  this,  nothing 


ix.,x.]  THE   THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN.  145 


for  two  3^ears  together  would  abide  with  me  but  damna- 
tion and  tlie  expectation  of  damnation.  This  thought 
had  passed  my  heart — God  hath  let  me  go,  and  I  am 
fallen.  Oh,  thought  I,  that  it  was  with  me  as  in 
months  past,  as  in  the  days  when  God  preserved  me." 

The  Book  of  Job  helps  us  to  understand  Bunyan 
and  those  terrors  of  his  that  amaze  our  composed 
generation.  Given  a  man  like  Job  or  like  Bunyan,  to 
whom  religion  is  everything,  who  must  feel  sure  of 
Divine  justice,  truth,  and  mercy,  he  will  pass  far  beyond 
the  measured  emotions  and  phrases  of  those  who  are 
more  than  half  content  with  the  world  and  themselves. 
The  writer  here,  whose  own  stages  of  thought  are 
recorded,  and  Bunyan,  who  with  rare  force  and  sincerity 
retraces  the  way  of  his  life,  are  men  of  splendid  character 
and  virtue.  Titans  of  the  religious  life,  they  are  stricken 
with  anguish  and  bound  with  iron  fetters  to  the  rock 
of  pain  for  the  sake  of  universal  humanity.  They  are 
a  wander  to  the  worldling,  they  speak  in  terms  the 
smooth  professor  of  religion  shudders  at.  But  their  en- 
durance, their  vehement  resolution,  break  the  falsehoods 
of  the  time  and  enter  into  the  redemption  of  the  race. 

The  strain  of  Job's  complaint  increases  in  bitterness. 
He  seems  to  see  omnipotent  injustice  everywhere.  If 
a  scourge  (ver.  23),  such  as  lightning,  accident  or  disease, 
slayeth  suddenly,  there  seems  to  be  nothing  but 
mockery  of  the  innocent.  God  looks  down  on  the 
wreck  of  human  hope  from  the  calm  sky  after  the 
thunderstorm,  in  the  evening  sunlight  that  gilds  the  desert 
grave.  And  in  the  world  of  men  the  wicked  have  their 
way.  God  veils  the  face  of  the  judge  so  that  he  is 
blinded  to  the  equity  of  the  cause.  Thus,  after  the 
arguments  of  his  friends,  Job  is  compelled  to  see  wrong 
everywhere,   and   to  say  that  it  is  the  doing  of  God. 

10 


146  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

The  strophe  ends  with  the  abrupt  fierce  demand, — If 
not,  who  then  is  it  ? 

The  short  passage  from  the  twenty-fifth  verse  to  the 
end  of  chap.  ix.  returns  sadly  to  the  strain  of  personal 
weakness  and  entreaty.  Swiftly  Job's  days  go  by, 
more  swiftly  than  a  runner,  in  so  far  as  he  sees  no 
good.  Or  they  are  hke  the  reed-skifis  on  the  river, 
or  the  darting  eagle.  To  forget  his  pain  is  impossible. 
He  cannot  put  on  an  appearance  of  serenity  or  hope. 
God  is  keeping  him  bound  as  a  transgressor.  "  I  shall 
be  condemned  whatever  I  do.  Why  then  do  I  weary 
myself  in  vain  ?  "  Looking  at  his  discoloured  body, 
covered  with  the  grime  of  disease,  he  finds  it  a  sign 
of  God's  detestation.  But  if  he  could  wash  it  with 
snow,  that  is,  to  snowy  whiteness,  if  he  could  purify 
those  blackened  limbs  with  lye,  the  renewal  w^ould  go 
no  further.  God  would  plunge  him  again  into  the 
mire ;  his  own  clothes  would  abhor  him. 

And  now  there  is  a  change  of  tone.  His  mind, 
revolting  from  its  own  conclusion,  turns  toward  the 
thought  of  reconciliation.  While  as  yet  he  speaks  of 
it  as  an  impossibility  there  comes  to  him  a  sorrowful 
regret,  a  vague  dream  or  reflection  in  place  of  that 
fierce  rebellion  which  discoloured  the  whole  world  and 
made  it  appear  an  arena  of  injustice.  With  that  he 
cannot  pretend  to  satisfy  himself.  Again  his  humanity 
stirs  in  him  : — 

"  For  He  is  not  a  man,  as  I,  that  I  should  answer  Him, 
That  we  should  come  together  in  judgment. 
There  is  no  daysman  between  us 
That  might  lay  his  hand  upon  us  both. 
Let  Him  take  away  His  rod  from  me, 
And  let  not  His  terror  overawe  me ; 
Then  ivould  I  speak  and  not  fear  Him  : 
For  I  am  not  in  such  case  in  myself." 


ix.,x.]  THE   THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN.  147 

If  he  could  only  speak  with  God  as  a  man  speaks  with 
his  friend  the  shadows  might  be  cleared  away.     The 
real  God,  not  unreasonable,  not  unrighteous  nor  despotic, 
here   begins    to    appear ;    and    in    default    of  personal 
converse,  and  of  a  daysman,  or  arbiter,  who  might  lay 
reconciling  hands  upon  both  and  bring  them  together, 
Job  cries  for  an  interval  of  strength  and  freedom,  that 
without  fear  and  anguish  he  may  himself  express  the 
matter  at  stake.     The  idea  of  a  daysman,  although  the 
possibility  of  such  a  friendly  helper  is  denied,  is  a  new 
mark  of   boldness  in   the  thought  of  the    drama.     In 
that  one  word  the  inspired    writer  strikes  the  note  of 
a  Divine  purpose  which  he  does  not  yet  foresee.     We 
must  not  say  that  here  we    have  the  prediction  of  a 
Redeemer  at  once  God  and  man.     The  author  has  no 
such    affirmation    to  make.     But  very  remarkably  the 
desires  of  Job  are  led  forth  in  that  direction  in  which 
the  advent  and  work  of  Christ  have  fulfilled  the  decree 
of  grace.     There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  inspiration  of 
a  writer  who  thus  strikes  into  the  current  of  the  Divine 
will  and  revelation.     Not  obscurely  is  it  implied  in  this 
Book  of  Job    that,  however   earnest  man   may   be   in 
religion,  however  upright  and  faithful  (for  all  this  Job 
was),  there  are  mysteries  of  fear  and  sorrow  connected 
with  his  life  in  this  world  which  can  be  solved  only  by 
One  who  brings  the  light  of  eternity  into  the  range  of 
time,  who  is  at  once  ''  very  God  and  very  man,"  whose 
overcoming  demands  and  encourages  our  faith. 

Now,  the  wistful  cry  of  Job — ''There  is  no  daysman 
between  us" — breaking  from  the  depths  of  an  experi- 
ence to  which  the  best  as  well  as  the  worst  are  exposed 
in  this  Hfe,  an  experience  which  cannot  in  either  case 
be  justified  or  accounted  for  unless'  by  the  fact  of 
immortahty,  is,  let  us  say,  as  presented  here,  a  purely 


148  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

human  cry.  Man  who  "  cannot  be  God's  exile,"  bound 
always  to  seek  understanding  of  the  will  and  character 
of  God,  finds  himself  in  the  midst  of  sudden  calamity 
and  extreme  pain,  face  to  face  with  death.  The  dark- 
ness that  shrouds  his  whole  existence  he  longs  to  see 
dispelled  or  shot  through  with  beams  of  clear  revealing 
light.  What  shall  we  say  of  it  ?  If  such  a  desire, 
arising  in  the  inmost  mind,  had  no  correspondence 
whatever  to  fact,  there  would  be  falsehood  at  the  heart 
of  things.  The  very  shape  the  desire  takes — for  a 
Mediator  who  should  be  acquainted  equally  with  God 
and  man,  sympathetic  tovv^ard  the  creature,  knowing 
the  mind  of  the  Creator — cannot  be  a  chance  thing. 
It  is  the  fruit  of  a  Divine  necessity  inwrought  with 
the  constitution  and  life  of  the  human  soul.  We  are 
pointed  to  an  irrefragable  argument;  but  the  thought 
meanwhile  does  not  follow  it.  Immortality  waits  for 
a  revelation. 

Job  has  prayed  for  rest.  It  does  not  come.  Another 
attack  of  pain  makes  a  pause  in  his  speech,  and  with 
the  tenth  chapter  begins  a  long  address  to  the  Most 
High,  not  fierce  as  before,  but  sorrowful,  subdued. 

"  My  soul  is  weary  of  my  life. 
I  will  give  free  course  to  niy  complaint  ; 
I  ivill  speak  in  bitterness  of  my  soul." 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  touch  the  threnody  that 
follows  without  marring  its  pathetic  and  profound 
beauty.  There  is  an  exquisite  dignity  of  restraint  and 
frankness  in  this  appeal  to  the  Creator.  He  is  an 
Artist  whose  fine  work  is  in  peril,  and  that  from  His 
own  seeming  carelessness  of  it,  or  more  dreadful  to 
conceive,   His  resolution  to  destroy  it. 


ix.,  X.]  THE    THOUGHT  OF  A    DAYSMAN.  149 

First  the  cry  is,  "  Do  not  condemn  me.  Is  it  good 
u'nto  Thee  that  Thou  shouldest  despise  the  work  of 
Thine  hands  ?  "  It  is  marvellous  to  Job  that  he  should 
be  scorned  as  worthless,  while  at  the  same  time  God 
seems  to  shine  on  the  counsel  of  the  wicked.  How  can 
that,  O  Thou  Most  High,  be  in  harmony  with  Thy 
nature?  He  puts  a  supposition,  which  even  in  stating 
it  he  must  refuse,  "  Hast  Thou  eyes  of  flesh  ?  or  seest 
Thou  as  man  seeth  ? "  A  jealous  man,  clothed  with 
a  little  brief  authority,  might  probe  into  the  misdeeds 
of  a  fellow-creature.  But  God  cannot  do  so.  His 
majesty  forbids  ;  and  especially  since  He  knows,  for  one 
thing,  that  Job  is  not  guilty,  and,  for  another  thing, 
that  no  one  can  escape  His  hands.  Men  often  lay  hold 
of  the  innocent,  and  torture  them  to  discover  imputed 
crimes.  The  supposition  that  God  acts  like  a  despot 
or  the  servant  of  a  despot  is  made  only  to  be  cast  aside. 
But  he  goes  back  on  his  appeal  to  God  as  Creator,  and 
bethinks  him  of  that  tender  fashioning  of  the  body 
which  seems  an  argument  for  as  tender  a  care  of  the 
soul  and  the  spirit-life.  Much  of  power  and  loving- 
kindness  goes  to  the  perfecting  of  the  body  and  the 
development  of  the  physical  hfe  out  of  weakness  and 
embryonic  form.  Can  He  who  has  so  wrought,  who 
has  added  favour  and  apparent  love,  have  been  conceal- 
ing all  the  time  a  design  of  mockery  ?  Even  in  creating^ 
had  God  the  purpose  of  making  His  creature  a  mere 
plaything  for  the  self-will  of  Omnipotence  ? 

"  Yd  these  things  Thoit  didst  hide  in  Thine  hearth 

These  things — the  desolate  home,  the  outcast  life, 
the  leprosy.  Job  uses  a  strange  word  :  "I  know  that 
this  was  with  Thee."  His  conclusion  is  stated  roughly, 
that  nothing  can  matter  in  dealing  with  such  a  Creator. 


ISO  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

The  insistence  of  the  friends  on  the  hope  of  forgiveness, 
Job's  own  consciousness  of  integrity  go  for  nothing. 

"  Were  I  to  sin  Thou  wouldst  mark  me, 
And  Thou  wouldst  not  acquit  nie  of  iniquity. 
Were  I  wicked,  zvoe  unto  me  ; 
Were  I  righteous,  yet  shoidd  I  not  lift  up  my  head" 

The  supreme  Power  of  the  world  has  taken  an  aspect 
not  of  unreasoning  force,  but  of  determined  ill-will  to 
man.  The  only  safety  seems  to  be  in  lying  quiet  so  as 
not  to  excite  against  him  the  activity  of  this  awful  God 
who  hunts  like  a  lion  and  delights  in  marvels  of  wasteful 
strength.  It  appears  that,  having  been  once  roused,  the 
Divine  Enemy  will  not  cease  to  persecute.  New  wit- 
nesses, new  causes  of  indignation  would  be  found  ;  a 
changing  host  of  troubles  would  follow  up  the  attack. 

I  have  ventured  to  interpret  the  whole  address  in 
terms  of  supposition,  as  a  theory  Job  flings  out  in  the 
utter  darkness  that  surrounds  him.  He  does  not  adopt 
it.  To  imagine  that  he  really  believes  this,  or  that  the 
writer  of  the  book  intended  to  put  forward  such  a  theory 
as  even  approximately  true,  is  quite  impossible.  And 
yet,  when  one  thinks  of  it,  perhaps  impossible  is  too 
strong  a  word.  The  doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  God 
is  a  fundamental  truth  ;  but  it  has  been  so  conceived 
and  wrought  with  as  to  lead  many  reasoners  into  a 
dream  of  cruelty  and  irresponsible  force  not  unlike  that 
which  haunts  the  mind  of  Job.  Something  of  the  kind 
has  been  argued  for  with  no  little  earnestness  by  men 
who  were  religiously  endeavouring  to  explain  the  Bible 
and  professed  to  believe  in  the  love  of  God  to  the 
world.  For  example  :  the  annihilation  of  the  wicked 
is  denied  by  one  for  the  good  reason  that  God  has  a 
profound  reverence  for  being  or  existence,  so  that  he 
who  is  once  possessed  of  will  must  exist  for  ever ;  but 


ix„x.]  THE   THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN.  151 

from  this  the  writer  goes  on  to  maintain  that  the  wicked 
are  useful  to  God  as  the  material  on  which  His  justice 
operates,  that  indeed  they  have  been  created  solely  for 
everlasting  punishment  in  order  that  through  them  the 
justice  of  the  Almighty  may  be  clearly  seen.  Against 
this  very  kind  of  theology  Job  is  in  revolt.  In  the  light 
even  of  his  world  it  was  a  creed  of  darkness.  That  God 
hates  wrong-doing,  that  everything  selfish,  vindictive, 
cruel,  unclean,  false,  shall  be  driven  before  Him — who 
can  doubt  ?  That  according  to  His  decree  sin  brings 
its  punishment  yielding  the  wages  of  death — who  can 
doubt  ?  But  to  represent  Him  who  has  made  us  all, 
and  must  have  foreseen  our  sin,  as  without  any  kind  of 
responsibihty  for  us,  dashing  in  pieces  the  machines 
He  has  made  because  they  do  not  serve  His  purpose, 
though  He  knew  even  in  making  them  that  they  would 
not — what  a  hideous  falsehood  is  this ;  it  can  justify 
God  only  at  the  expense  of  undeifying  Him, 

One  thing  this  Book  of  Job  teaches,  that  we  are  not 
to  go  against  our  own  sincere  reason  nor  our  sense  of 
justice  and  truth  in  order  to  square  facts  with  any 
scheme  or  any  theory.  Religious  teaching  and  thought 
must  affirm  nothing  that  is  not  entirely  frank,  purely 
just,  and  such  as  we  could,  in  the  last  resort,  apply  out 
and  out  to  ourselves.  Shall  man  be  more  just  than 
God,  more  generous  than  God,  more  faithful  than  God  ? 
Perish  the  thought,  and  every  system  that  maintains  so 
false  a  theory  and  tries  to  force  it  on  the  human  mind  ! 
Nevertheless,  let  there  be  no  falling  into  the  opposite 
error;  from  that,  too,  frankness  will  preserve  us.  No 
sincere  man,  attentive  to  the  realities  of  the  world  and 
the  awful  ordinances  of  nature,  can  suspect  the  Universal 
Power  of  indifference  to  evil,  of  any  design  to  leave  law 
without   sanction.     We  do    not    escape  at  one   point ; 


152  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

God  is  our  Father ;  righteousness  is  vindicated,  and  so 
is  faith.    • 

As  the  colloquies  proceed,  the  impression  is  gradually 
made  that  the  writer  of  this  book  is  wrestling  with  that 
study  which  more  and  more  engages  the  intellect  of 
man — What  is  the  real  ?  How  does  it  stand  related 
to  the  ideal,  thought  of  as  righteousness,  as  beauty,  as 
truth  ?  How  does  it  stand  related  to  God,  sovereign 
and  holy  ?  The  opening  of  the  book  might  have  led 
straight  to  the  theory  that  the  real,  the  present  world 
charged  with  sin,  disaster,  and  death,  is  not  of  the 
Divine  order,  therefore  is  of  a  Devil.  But  the  dis- 
appearance of  Satan  throws  aside  any  such  idea  of 
dualism,  and  pledges  the  writer  to  find  solution,  if  he 
find  it  at  all,  in  one  will,  one  purpose,  one  Divine  event. 
On  Job  himself  the  burden  and  the  effort  descend  in 
his  conflict  with  the  real  as  disaster,  enigma,  impending 
death,  false  judgment,  established  theology  and  schemes 
of  explanation.  The  ideal  evades  him,  is  lost  between 
the  rising  wave  and  the  lowering  sky.  In  the  whole 
horizon  he  sees  no  clear  open  space  where  it  can 
unfold  the  day.  But  it  remains  in  his  heart ;  and  in  the 
night-sky  it  waits  where  the  great  constellations  shine 
in  their  dazzling  purity  and  eternal  calm,  brooding 
silent  over  the  world  as  from  immeasurable  distance  far 
withdrawn.  Even  from  that  distance  God  sends  forth 
and  will  accomplish  a  design.  Meanwhile  the  man 
stretches  his  hands  in  vain  from  the  shadowed  earth  to 
those  keen  lights,  ever  so  remote  and  cold. 

"  Show  me  ivherefore  Thou  strivest  zvith  me. 
Is  it  pleasant  to  Thee  tliat  Thou  should' st  oppress, 
That  Thou  should' st  despise  the  work  of  Thy  hands 
And  shine  iipon  the  counsel  of  the  wicked? 
Hast  Thou  eyes  of  flesh  ? 
Or  secst  Thou  as  man  sceth  ? 


ix.,x.]  THE    THOUGHT  OF  A   DAYSMAN.  153 

Thy  days — arc  they  as  the  days  of  man  ? 

Thy  years — are  they  as  man's  days, 

That  Thou  inquirest  after  fault  of  mine, 

And  searchest  after  my  sin, 

Though  Thou  knoivcst  that  I  am  not  ivicked, 

And  none  can  deliver  from  Thy  hand? 

Thine  hands  have  made  and  fashioned  tne 

Together  round  about ;  and  Thou  dost  destroy  me" 

{Chap.  X.  2-8.) 


XI. 

A   FRESH  ATTEMPT   TO   CONVICT. 

ZOPHAR    SPEAKS.       ChAP,    xi. 

THE  third  and  presumably  youngest  of  the  three 
friends  of  Job  now  takes  up  the  argument  some- 
what in  the  same  strain  as  the  others.  With  no  wish 
to  be  unfair  to  Zophar  we  are  somewhat  prepos- 
sessed against  him  from  the  outset ;  and  the  writer  must 
mean  us  to  be  so,  since  he  makes  him  attack  Job  as  an 
empty  babbler : — 

^^  Shall  not  the  multitude  of  ivords  be  mtsivered? 
And  shall  a  man  of  lips  be  justified  ? 
Shall  thy  boastijtgs  make  people  silent, 
So  that  thou  mayest  mock  on,  none  putting  thee  to  shame  ?  " 

True  it  was,  Job  had  used  vehement  speech.  Yet  it 
is  a  most  insulting  suggestion  that  he  meant  little  but 
irreligious  bluster.  The  special  note  of  Zophar  comes 
out  in  his  rebuke  of  Job  for  the  mockery,  that  is, 
sceptical  talk,  in  which  he  had  indulged.  Persons  who 
merely  rehearse  opinions  are  usually  the  most  dogmatic 
and  take  most  upon  them.  Nobody  reckons  himself 
more  able  to  detect  error  in  doctrine,  nobody  denounces 
rationalism  and  infidelity  with  greater  confidence,  than 
the  man  whose  creed  is  formal,  who  never  applied  his 
mind  directly  to  the  problems  of  faith,' and  has  but  a 
moderate  amount  of  mind  to  apply.     Zophar,  indeed, 

154 


xi.]  A   FRESH  ATTEMPT  TO   CONVICT.  155 

is  a  man  of  considerable  intelligence ;  but  he  betrays 
himself.  To  him  Job's  words  have  been  wearisome. 
He  may  have  tried  to  understand  the  matter,  but  he 
has  caught  only  a  general  impression  that,  in  the  face 
of  what  appears  to  him  clearest  evidence,  Job  denies 
being  any  way  amenable  to  justice.  He  had  dared  to 
say  to  God,  "Thou  knowest  that  I  am  not  wicked." 
What  ?  God  can  afQict  a  man  whom  He  knows  to  be 
righteous  !  It  is  a  doctrine  as  profane  as  it  is  novel. 
Eliphaz  and  Bildad  supposed  that  they  had  to  deal 
with  a  man  unwilling  to  humble  himself  in  the  way  of 
acknowledging  sins  hitherto  concealed.  By  pressure 
of  one  kind  or  another  they  hoped  to  get  Job  to  realise 
his  secret  transgression.  But  Zophar  has  noted  the 
whole  tendency  of  his  argument  to  be  heretical. 
"Thou  sayest,  My  doctrine  is  pure."  And  what  is 
that  doctrine  ?  Why,  that  thou  wast  clean  in  the  eyes 
of  God,  that  God  has  smitten  thee  without  cause. 
Dost  thou  mean,  O  Job  !  to  accuse  the  Most  High  of 
acting  in  that  manner  ?  Oh  that  God  would  speak  and 
open  His  lips  against  thee  !  Thou  hast  expressed  a 
desire  to  state  thy  case  to  Him.  The  result  would  be 
very  different  from  thy  expectation. 

Now,  beneath  any  mistaken  view  held  by  sincere 
persons  there  is  almost  always  a  sort  of  foundation  of 
truth  ;  and  they  have  at  least  as  much  logic  as  satisfies 
themselves.  Job's  friends  are  religious  men ;  they  do 
not  consciously  build  on  lies.  One  and  all  they  are 
convinced  that  God  is  invariable  in  His  treatment  of 
men,  never  afflicting  the  innocent,  always  dealing  out 
judgment  in  the  precise  measure  of  a  man's  sin.  That 
belief  is  the  basis  of  their  creed.  They  could  not 
worship  a  God  less  than  absolutely  just.  Beginning 
the  religious  life  with  this  faith  they  have  clung  to  it 


156  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

all  along.  After  thirty  or  forty  years'  experience  they 
are  still  confident  that  their  principle  explains  the 
prosperity  and  affliction,  the  circumstances  of  all 
human  beings.  But  have  they  never  seen  anything 
that  did  not  harmonise  with  this  view  of  providence  ? 
Have  they  not  seen  the  good  die  in  youth,  and  those 
whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer  dust  burn  to  their 
sockets  ?  Have  they  not  seen  vile  schemes  prosper, 
and  the  schemers  enjoy  their  ill-gotten  power  for  years  ? 
It  is  strange  the  old  faith  has  not  been  shaken  at  least. 
But  no !  They  come  to  the  case  of  Job  as  firmly  con- 
vinced as  ever  that  the  Ruler  of  the  world  shows  His 
justice  by  dispensing  joy  and  suffering  in  proportion  to 
men's  good  and  evil  deeds,  that  whenever  trouble 
falls  on  any  one  some  sin  must  have  been  committed 
which  deserved  precisely  this  kind  and  quantity  of 
suffering. 

Trying  to  get  at  the  source  of  the  belief  we  must 
confess  ourselves  partly  at  a  loss.  One  writer  suggests 
that  there  may  have  been  in  the  earlier  and  simpler 
conditions  of  society  a  closer  correspondence  between 
wrong-doing  and  suffering  than  is  to  be  seen  nowa- 
days. There  may  be  something  in  this.  But  life  is 
not  governed  differently  at '  different  epochs,  and  the 
theory  is  hardly  proved  by  what  we  know  of  the  ancient 
world.  No  doubt  in  the  history  of  the  Hebrews,  which 
lies  behind  the  faith  attributed  to  the  friends  of  Job,  a 
connection  may  be  traced  between  their  wrong-doing 
as  a  nation  and  their,  suffering  as  a  nation.  When  they 
fell  away  from  faith  in  God  their  obedience  languished, 
their  vigour  failed,  the  end  of  their  existence  being  lost 
sight  of,  and  so  they  became  the  prey  of  enemies.  But 
this  did  not  apply  to  individuals.  The  good  suffered 
along   with    the   careless    and    wicked    in    seasons    of 


:i.]  A   FRESH  ATTEMPT  TO   CONVICT.  157 


national  calamity.  And  the  history  of  the  people  of 
Israel  would  support  such  a  view  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment so  long  only  as  national  transgression  and  its 
punishment  were  alone  taken  into  account.  Now, 
however,  the  distinction  •  between  the  nation  and  the 
individual  has  clearly  emerged.  The  sin  of  a  com- 
munity can  no  longer  explain  satisfactorily  the  sufferings 
of  a  member  of  the  community,  faithful  among  the 
unbelieving. 

But  the  theory  seems  to  have  been  made  out  rather 
by  the  following  course  of  argument.  Always  in  the 
administration  of  law  and  the  exercise  of  paternal 
authority,  transgression  has  been  visited  with  pain  and 
deprivation  of  privilege.  The  father  whose  son  has 
disobeyed  him  inflicts  pain,  and,  if  he  is  a  judicious 
father,  makes  the  pain  proportionate  to  the  offence. 
The  ruler,  through  his  judges  and  officers,  punishes 
transgression  according  to  some  orderly  code.  Male- 
factors are  deprived  of  liberty;  they  are  fined  or 
scourged,  or,  in  the  last  resort,  executed.  Now,  having 
in  this  way  built  up  a  system  of  law  which  inflicts 
punishment  with  more  or  less  justice  in  proportion  to 
the  offence  imputed,  men  take  for  granted  that  what  they 
do  imperfectly  is  done  perfectly  by  God.  They  take 
for  granted  that  the  calamities  and  troubles  He  appoints 
are  ordained  according  to  the  same  principle,  with 
precisely  the  same  design,  as  penalty  is  inflicted  by  a 
father,  a  chief,  or  a  king.  The  reasoning  is  contradicted 
in  many  ways,  but  they  disregard  the  difficulties.  If 
this  is  not  the  truth,  what  other  explanation  is  to  be 
found  ?  The  desire  for  happiness  is  keen ;  pain  seems 
the  worst  of  evils  :  and  they  fail  to  see  that  endurance 
can  be  the  means  of  good.  Feeling  themselves  bound 
to    maintain    the    perfect    righteousness    of    God   they 


158  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

affirm  the  only  theory  of  suffering  that  seems  to  agree 
with  ,it. 

Now,  Zophar,  Hke  the  others  full  of  this  theory, 
admits  that  Job  may  have  failed  to  see  his  transgression. 
But  in  that  case  the  sufferer  is  unable  to  distinguish 
right  from  wrong.  Indeed,  his  whole  contention  seems 
to  Zophar  to  show  ignorance.  If  God  were  to  speak 
and  reveal  the  secrets  of  His  holy  wisdom,  twice  as 
deep,  twice  as  penetrating  as  Job  supposes,  the  sins 
he  has  denied  would  be  brought  home  to  him.  He 
would  know  that  God  requires  less  of  him  than  his 
iniquity  deserves.  Zophar  hints,  what  is  very  true, 
that  our  judgment  of  our  own  conduct  is  imperfect. 
How  can  we  trace  the  real  nature  of  our  actions,  or 
know  how  they  look  to  the  sublime  wisdom  of  the 
Most  High  ?  Job  appears  to  have  forgotten  all  this. 
He  refuses  to  allow  fault  in  himself.  But  God  knows 
better. 

Here  is  a  cunning  argument  to  fortify  the  general 
position.  It  could  always  be  said  of  a  case  which 
presented  difficulties  that,  while  the  sufferer  seemed 
innocent,  yet  the  wisdom  of  God,  "  twofold  in  under- 
standing "  (ver.  6)  as  compared  with  that  of  man, 
perceived  guilt  and  ordained  the  punishment.  But 
the  argument  proved  too  much,  for  Zophar's  own  health 
and  comfort  contradicted  his  dogma.  He  took  for 
granted  that  the  twofold  wisdom  of  the  Almighty 
found  nothing  wrong  in  him.  It  was  a  naive  piece 
of  forgetfulness.  Could  he  assert  that  his  life  had 
no  flaw  ?  Hardly.  But  then,  why  is  he  in  honour  ? 
How  had  he  been  able  to  come  riding  on  his  camel, 
attended  by  his  servants,  to  sit  in  judgment  on  Job  ? 
Plainly,  on  an  argument  like  his,  no  man  could  ever 
be  in  comfort  or  pleasure,  for  human  nature  is  always 


xi.]  A   FRESH  ATTEMPT  TO   CONVICT.  159 

defective,  always  in  more  or  less  of  sin.  Repentance 
never  overtakes  the  future.  Therefore  God  who  deals 
with  man  on  a  broad  basis  could  never  treat  him  save 
as  a  sinner,  to  be  kept  in  pain  and  deprivation.  If 
suffering  is  the  penalty  of  sin  we  ought  all,  notwith- 
standing the  atonement  of  Christ,  to  be  suffering  the 
pain  of  the  .hour  for  the  defect  of  the  hour,  since  *'  all 
have  sinned,  and  fall  short  of  the  glory  of  God."  At 
this  rate  man's  life — again  despite  the  atonement — 
would  be  continued  trial  and  sentence.  From  all  which 
it  is  evident  that  the  world  is  governed  on  another  plan 
than  that  which  satisfied  Job's  friends. 

Zophar  rises  to  eloquence  in  declaring  the  unsearch- 
ableness  of  Divine  wisdom. 

"  Canst  thou  find  the  depths  of  Eloah  ? 
Canst  thou  reach  to  the  end  of  Shaddai  ? 
Heights  of  heaven  !     What  canst  thou  do  ? 
Deeper  than  Sheol  /    .What  canst  thou  know  ? 
The  measure  thereof  is  longer  than  the  earth. 
Broader  is  it  than  the  sea." 

Here  is  fine  poetry ;  but  with  an  attempt  at  theology 
the  speaker  goes  astray,  for  he  conceives  God  as  doing 
what  he  himself  wishes  to  do,  namely,  prove  Job  a 
sinner.  The  Divine  greatness  is  invoked  that  a  narrow 
scheme  of  thought  may  be  justified.  If  God  pass  by, 
if  He  arrest,  if  He  hold  assize,  who  can  hinder  Him  ? 
Supreme  wisdom  and  infinite  power  admit  no  question- 
ing, no  resistance.  God  knoweth  vain  or  wicked  men 
at  a  glance.  One  look  and  all  is  plain  to  Him.  Empty 
man  will  be  wise  in  these  matters  "  when  a  wild  ass's 
colt  is  born  a  man." 

Turning  from  this,  as  if  in  recollection  that  he  has 
to  treat  Job  with  friendhness,  Zophar  closes  Hke  the 
other  two  with  a  promise.     If  Job  will  put  away  sin. 


i6o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB, 


his  life  shall  be  established  again,  his  misery  forgotten 
or  remembered  as  a  torrent  of  spring  when  the  heat 
of  summer  comes. 

"  Thoii  shall  forget  thy  misery  ; 
Remember  it  as  waters  that  have  passed  by  ; 
And  thy  life  shall  rise  brighter  than  noonday  ; 
And  if  darkness  fall,  it  shall  be  as  the  morning. 
Than  shall  then  have  confidence  because  there  is  hope ; 
Yea,  look  around  and  take  rest  in  safety, 
Also  lie  down  and  none  shall  affray  thee, 
And  many  shall  make  suit  unto  thee. 
But  the  eyes  op  tJie  wicked  fail ; 
For  them  no  way  of  escape. 
And  their  hope  is  to  breathe  out  the  spirit.'^ 

Rhetoric  and  logic  are  used  in  promises  given  freely 
by  all  the  speakers.  But  not  one  of  them  has  any 
comfort  for  his  friend  while  the  affliction  lasts.  The 
author  does  not  allow  one  of  them  to  say,  God  is  thy 
friend,  God  is  thy  portion — now ;  He  still  cares  for 
thee.  In  some  of  the  psalms  a  higher  note  is  heard  : 
"  There  be  many  that  say.  Who  will  shew  us  any  good? 
Lord,  lift  Thou  up  the  light  of  Thy  countenance  upon 
us.  Thou  hast  put  gladness  in  my  heart,  more  than 
in  the  time  that  their  corn  and  their  wine  increased." 
The  friends  of  Job  are  full  of  pious  intentions,  yet 
they  state  a  most  unspiritual  creed,  the  foundation  of  it 
laid  in  corn  and  wine.  Peace  of  conscience  and  quiet 
confidence  in  God  are  not  what  they  go  by.  Hence  the 
sufferer  finds  no  support  in  them  or  their  promises. 
They  will  not  help  him  to  live  one  day,  nor  sustain  him 
in  dying.  For  it  is  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
he  desires  to  see.  He  is  only  mocked  and  exasperated 
by  their  arguments  ;  and  in  the  course  of  his  own 
eager  thought  the  revelation  comes  like  a  star  of  hope 
rising  on  the  midnight  of  his  soul. 


xi.]  A   FRESH  ATTEMPT  TO   CONVICT.  i6i 

Though  Zophar  fails  Uke  the  other  two,  he  is  not  to 
be  called  a  mere  echo.  It  is  incorrect  to  say  that, 
while  Eliphaz  is  a  kind  of  prophet  and  Bildad  a  sage, 
Zophar  is  a  commonplace  man  without  ideas.  On  the 
contrary,  he  is  a  thinker,  something  of  a  philosopher, 
although,  of  course,  greatly  restricted  by  his  narrow 
creed.  He  is  stringent,  bitter  indeed.  But  he  has 
the  merit  of  seeing  a  certain  force  in  Job's  contention 
which  he  does  not  fairly  meet.  It  is  a  fresh  suggestion 
that  the  answer  must  lie  in  the  depth  of  that  pene- 
trating wisdom  of  the  Most  High,  compared  to  which 
man's  wisdom  is  vain.  Then,  his  description  of  the 
return  of  blessedness  and  prosperity,  when  one  examines 
it,  is  found  distinctly  in  advance  of  Eliphaz's  picture 
in  moral  colouring  and  gravity  of  treatment.  We 
must  not  fail  to  notice,  moreover,  that  Zophar  speaks 
of  the  omniscience  of  God  more  than  of  His  omnipo- 
tence ;  and  the  closing  verse  describes  the  end  of  the 
wicked  not  as  the  result  of  a  supernatural  stroke  or 
a  sudden  calamity,  but  as  a  process  of  natural  and 
spiritual  decay. 

The  closing  words  of  Zophar's  speech  point  to  the 
finality  of  death,  and  bear  the  mea?ning  that  if  Job  were 
to  die  now  of  his  disease  the  whole  question  of  his 
character  would  be  closed.  It  is  important  to  note 
this,  because  it  enters  into  Job's  mind  and  affects  his 
expressions  of  desire.  Never  again  does  he  cry  for 
release  as  before.  If  he  names  death  it  is  as  a  sorrow- 
ful fate  he  must  meet  or  a  power  he  will  defy.  He 
advances  to  one  point  after  another  of  reasserted 
energy,  to  the  resolution  that,  whatever  death  may  do, 
either  in  the  underworld  or  beyond  it  he  will  wait  for 
vindication  or  assert  his  right. 


II 


XII. 

BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR  TO  GOD. 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  xii.-xiv. 

ZOPHAR  excites  in  Job's  mind  great  irritation, 
which  must  not  be  set  down  altogether  to  the 
fact  that  he  is  the  third  to  speak.  In  some  respects  he 
has  made  the  best  attack  from  the  old  position,  press- 
ing most  upon  the  conscience  of  Job.  He  has  also 
used  a  curt  positive  tone  in  setting  out  the  method  and 
principle  of  Divine  government  and  the  judgment  he 
has  formed  of  his  friend's  state.  Job  is  accordingly 
the  more  impatient,  if  not  disconcerted.  Zophar  had 
spoken  of  the  want  of  understanding  Job  had  shown, 
and  the  penetrating  wisdom  of  God  which  at  a  glance 
convicts  men  of  iniquity.  His  tone  provoked  resent- 
ment. Who  is  this  that  claims  to  have  solved  the 
enigmas  of  providence,  to  have  gone  into  the  depths  of 
wisdom  ?  Does  he  know  any  more,  he  himself,  than 
the  wild  ass's  colt  ? 

And  Job  begins  with  stringent  irony — 

"  No  doubt  but  ye  are  tiie  people, 
And  wisdom  shall  die  with  you." 

The  secrets  of  thought,  of  revelation  itself  are  yours. 
No  doubt  the  world  waited  to  be  taught  till  you  were 
born.     Do  you  not  think  so  ?     But,    after  all,    I    also 

162 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR   TO   GOD.  163 

have  a  share  of  understanding,  I  am  not  quite  so  void 
of  intellect  as  you  seem  to  fancy.  Besides,  who 
knoweth  not  such  things  as  ye  speak  ?  Are  they 
new  ?  I  had  supposed  them  to  be  commonplaces. 
Yea,  if  you  recall  what  I  said,  you  will  find  that  with 
a  little  more  vigour  than  yours  I  made  the  same 
declarations. 

"  A  laiigJiing-stock  to  his  neighbours  am  I, 
I  who  called  upon  Eloah  and  He  answered  me^ — 
A  laughing-stocky  the  righteous  and  perfect  man" 

Job  sees  or  thinks  he  sees  that  his  misery  makes 
him  an  object  of  contempt  to  men  who  once  gave  him 
the  credit  of  far  greater  wisdom  and  goodness  than 
their  own.  They  are  bringing  out  old  notions,  which 
are  utterly  useless,  to  explain  the  ways  of  God ;  they 
assume  the  place  of  teachers ;  they  are  far  better,  far 
wiser  now  than  he.     It  is  more  than  flesh  can  bear. 

As  he  looks  at  his  own  diseased  body  and  feels  again 
his  weakness,  the  cruelty  of  the  conventional  judgment 
stings  him.  "  In  the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease 
there  is  for  misfortune  scorn ;  it  awaiteth  them  that 
slip  with  the  foot."  Perhaps  Job  was  mistaken,  but  it 
is  too  often  true  that  the  man  who  fails  in  a  social 
sense  is  the  man  suspected.  Evil  things  are  found  in 
him  when  he  is  covered  with  the  dust  of  misfortune, 
things  which  no  one  dreamed  of  before.  Flatterers 
become  critics  and  judges.  They  find  that  he  has  a 
bad  heart  or  that  he  is  a  fool. 

But  if  those  very  good  and  wise  friends  of  Job  are 
astonished  at  anything  previously  said,  they  shall  be 
more  astonished.  The  facts  which  their  account  of 
Divine  providence  very  carefully  avoided  as  incon- 
venient Job  will  blurt  out.  They  have  stated  and 
restated,   with    utmost    complacency,   their    threadbare 


i64  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

theory  of  the  government  of  God.  Let  them  look  now 
abroad  on  the  world  and  see  what  actually  goes  on, 
blinking  no  facts. 

The  tents  of  robbers  prosper.  Out  in  the  desert 
there  are  troops  of  bandits  who  are  never  overtaken  by 
justice ;  and  they  that  provoke  God  are  secure,  who 
carry  a  god  in  their  hand,  whose  sword  and  the  reck- 
less daring  with  which  they  use  it  make  them  to  all 
appearance  safe  in  villainy.  These  are  the  things 
to  be  accounted  for;  and,  accounting  for  them.  Job 
launches  into  a  most  emphatic  argument  to  prove  all 
that  is  done  in  the  world  strangely  and  inexplicably 
to  be  the  doing  of  God.  As  to  that  he  will  allow  no 
question.  His  friends  shall  know  that  he  is  sound  on 
this  head.  And  let  them  provide  the  defence  of  Divine 
righteousness  after  he  has  spoken. 

Here,  however,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  in  what 
way  the  limitations  of  Hebrew  thought  must  have  been 
felt  by  one  who,  turning  from  the  popular  creed, 
sought  a  view  more  in  harmony  with  fact.  Now- 
a-days  the  word  nature  is  often  made  to  stand  for  a 
force  or  combination  of  forces  conceived  of  as  either 
entirely  or  partially  independent  of  God.  Tennyson 
makes  the  distinction  when  he  speaks  of  man 

"  Who  trusted  God  was  love  indeed 
And  love  creation's  final  law, 
Though  nature,  red  in  tooth  and  claw 
With  ravin,  shrieked  against  the  creed  "; 

and  again  when  he  asks — 

"Are  God  and  nature  then  at  strife 

That  nature  lends  such  evil  dreams, 
So  careful  of  the  type  she  seems, 
So  careless  of  the  single  life  ?  " 

Now  to  this  question,  perplexing  enough  on  the   face 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR   TO   GOD.  165 

of  it  when  we  consider  what  suffering  there  is  in  the 
creation,  how  the  waves  of  Hfe  seem  to  beat  and  break 
themselves  age  after  age  on  the  rocks  of  death,  the 
answer  in  its  first  stage  is  that  God  and  nature  cannot 
be  at  strife.  The}^  are  not  apart ;  there  is  but  one 
universe,  therefore  one  Cause.  One  Omnipotent  there 
is  whose  will  is  done,  whose  character  is  shown  in  all 
we  see  and  all  we  cannot  see,  the  issues  of  endless 
strife,  the  long  results  of  perennial  evolution.  But  then 
comes  the  question.  What  is  His  character,  of  what 
spirit  is  He  who  alone  rules,  who  sends  after  the  calm 
the  fierce  storm,  after  the  beauty  of  life  the  corruption 
of  death  ?  And  one  may  say  the  struggle  between 
Bible  religion  and  modern  science  is  on  this  very  field. 
Cold  heartless  power,  say  some  ;  no  Father,  but  an 
impersonal  Will  to  which  men  are  nothing,  human  joy 
and  love  nothing,  to  which  the  fair  blossom  is  no  more 
than  the  clod,  and  the  holy  prayer  no  better  than  the 
vile  sneer.  On  this,  faith  arises  to  the  struggle. 
Faith  warm  and  hopeful  takes  reason  into  counsel, 
searches  the  springs  of  existence,  goes  forth  into  the 
future  and  forecasts  the  end,  that  it  may  affirm  and 
reaffirm  against  all  denial  that  One  Omnipotent 
reigns  who  is  all-loving,  the  Father  of  infinite  mercy. 
Here  is  the  arena ;  here  the  conflict  rages  and  will 
rage  for  many  a  day.  And  to  him  will  belong  the 
laurels  of  the  age  who,  with  the  Bible  in  one  hand  and 
the  instruments  of  science  in  the  other,  effects  the 
reconciliation  of  faith  with  fact.  Tennyson  came  with 
the  questions  of  our  day.  He  passes  and  has  not 
given  a  satisfactory  answer.  Carlyle  has  gone  with 
the  "  Everlasting  Yea  and  No  "  beating  through  his 
oracles.  Even  Browning,  a  later  athlete,  did  not  find 
complete  reason  for  faith. 


1 66  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


"  From  Thy  will  stream  the  worlds,  h"fe,  and  nature,  Thy 
dread  sabaoth." 

Now  return  to  Job.  He  considers  nature ;  he  believes 
in  God  ;  he  stands  firmly  on  the  conviction  that  all  is 
of  God.  Hebrew  faith  held  this,  and  was  not  limited 
in  holding  it,  for  it  is  the  fact.  But  we  cannot  wonder 
that  providence  disconcerted  him,  since  the  reconcilia- 
tion of  "  merciless  "  nature  and  the  merciful  God  is  not 
even  yet  wrought  out.  Notwithstanding  the  revelation 
of  Christ,  many  still  find  themselves  in  darkness  just 
when  light  is  most  urgently  craved.  Willing  to  believe, 
they  yet  lean  to  a  dualism  which  makes  God  Himself 
appear  in  conflict  with  the  scheme  of  things,  thwarted 
now  and  now  repentant,  gracious  in  design  but  not 
always  in  effect.  Now  the  limitation  of  the  Hebrew 
was  this,  that  to  his  idea  the  infinite  power  of  God  was 
not  balanced  by  infinite  mercy,  that  is,  by  regard  to  the 
whole  work  of  His  hands.  In  one  stormy  dash  after 
another  Job  is  made  to  attempt  this  barrier.  At 
moments  he  is  lifted  beyond  it,  and  sees  the  great 
universe  filled  with  Divine  care  that  equals  power; 
for  the  present,  however,  he  distinguishes  between 
merciful  intent  and  merciless,  and  ascribes  both  to 
God. 

What  does  he  say  ?  God  is  in  the  deceived  and  in 
the  deceiver ;  they  are  both  products  of  nature,  that 
is,  creatures  of  God.  He  increaseth  the  nations  and 
destroyeth  them.  Cities  arise  and  become  populous. 
The  great  metropolis  is  filled  with  its  myriads,  "among 
whom  are  six-score  thousand  that  cannot  discern  be- 
tween their  right  hand  and  their  left."  The  city  shall 
fulfil  its  cycle  and  perish.  It  is  God.  Searching  for 
reconciliation  Job  looks  the  facts  of  human  exist- 
ence right  in    the  face,    and   he  sees  a  confusion,  the 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR   TO   GOD.  167 

whole    enigma    which    lies  in  the  constitution    of  the 
world    and    of  the    soul.       Observe   how   his  thought 
moves.     The  beasts,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  the  fishes  of 
the  sea,  all  living  beings  everywhere,  not  self-created, 
with  no  power  to  shape  or  resist  their  destiny,  bear 
witness  to  the  almightiness  of  God.     In  His  hand  is 
the  lower  creation ;  in  His  hand  also,  rising  higher,  is 
the  breath  of  all  mankind.     Absolute,  universal  is  that 
power,  dispensing  life  and  death  as  it  broods  over  the 
ages.     Men  have  sought  to  understand  the  ways  of  the 
Great   Being.     The    ear   trieth   words   as   the    mouth 
tasteth  meat.     Is  there  wisdom  with  the  ancient,  those 
who  live  long,  as  Bildad  says  ?     Yes  :  but  with  God 
are   wisdom   and  strength ;    not  penetration   only,   but 
power.     He  discerns  and  does.     He  demolishes,  and 
there  is  no  rebuilding.     Man  is  imprisoned,  shut  up  by 
misfortune,  by  disease.     It  is  God's  decree,  and  there 
is  no  opening  till  He  allows.     At  His  will  the  waters 
are  dried  up  ;  at  His  will  they  pour  in  torrents  over  the 
earth.     And  so  amongst  men  there  are  currents  of  evil 
and  good  flowing  through   lives,  here   in  the  liar  and 
cheat,    there   in   the   victim    of  knavery ;  here    in    the 
counsellors  whose  plans  come  to  nothing,  there  in  the 
judges  whose  sagacity  is  changed  to  folly  ;  and  all  these 
currents  and  cross-currents,  making  life  a  bewildering 
maze,   have   their  beginning  in  the  will  of  God,  who 
seems   to   take  pleasure  in  doing  what  is  strange  and 
baffling.     Kings  take  men  captive  ;   the  bonds   of  the 
captives   are    loosed,    and    the    kings    themselves    are 
bound.     What  are  princes  and   priests,  what  are  the 
mighty  to  Him  ?     What  is  the  speech  of  the  eloquent  ? 
Where   is    the    understanding   of  the  aged  when  He 
spreads  confusion  ?     Deep  as  in  the  very  gloom  of  the 
grave  the  ambitious  may  hide  their  schemes ;  the  flux 


1 68  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

of  events  brings  them  out  to  judgment,  one  cannot 
foresee  how.  Nations  are  raised  up  and  destroyed  ; 
the  chiefs  of  the  people  are  made  to  fear  hke  children. 
Trusted  leaders  wander  in  a  wilderness ;  they  grope 
in  midnight  gloom  ;  they  stagger  like  the  drunken. 
Behold,  says  Job,  all  this  I  have  seen.  This  is  God's 
doing.  And  with  this  great  God  he  would  speak  ;  he, 
a  man,  would  have  things  out  with  the  Lord  of  all 
(chap.  xiii.  3). 

This  impetuous  passage,  full  of  revolution,  disaster, 
vast  mutations,  a  phantasmagoria  of  human  struggle 
and  defeat,  while  it  supplies  a  note  of  time  and  gives 
a  distinct  clue  to  the  writer's  position  as  an  Israelite, 
is  remarkable  for  the  faith  that  survives  its  apparent 
pessimism.  Others  have  surveyed  the  world  and  the 
history  of  change,  and  have  protested  with  their  last 
voice  against  the  cruelty  that  seemed  to  rule.  As  for 
any  God,  they  could  never  trust  one  whose  will  and 
power  were  to  be  found  alike  in  the  craft  of  the  deceiver 
and  the  misery  of  the  victim,  in  the  baffling  of  sincere 
thought  and  the  overthrow  of  the  honest  with  the  vile. 
But  Job  trusts  on.  Beneath  every  enigma,  he  looks  for 
reason  ;  beyond  every  disaster,  to  a  Divine  end.  The 
voices  of  men  have  come  between  him  and  the  voice  of 
the  Supreme.  Personal  disaster  has  come  between 
him  and  his  sense  of  God.  His  thought  is  not  free. 
If  it  were,  he  would  catch  the  reconciling  word,  his 
soul  would  hear  the  music  of  eternity.  '^  I  would 
reason  with  God."  He  chngs  to  God-given  reason  as 
his  instrument  of  discovery. 

Very  bold  is  this  whole  position,  and  very  reverent 
also,  if  you  will  think  of  it ;  far  more  honouring  to  God 
than   any  attempt   of   the    friends   who,   as    Job   says. 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  169 


appear  to  hold  the  Almighty  no  better  than  a  petty  chief, 
so  insecure  in  His  position  that  He  must  be  grateful 
to  any  one  who  will  justify  His  deeds.  ''  Poor  God, 
with  nobody  to  help  Him."  Job  uses  all  his  irony 
in  exposing  the  folly  of  such  a  religion,  the  imper- 
tinence of  presenting  it  to  him  as  a  solution  and  a 
help.  In  short,  he  tells  them,  they  are  pious  quacks, 
and,  as  he  will  have  none  of  them  for  his  part,  he 
thinks  God  will  not  either.  The  author  is  at  the  very 
heart  of  religion  here.  The  word  of  reproof  and  cor- 
rection, the  plea  for  providence  must  go  straight  to 
the  reason  of  man,  or  it  is  of  no  use.  The  word  of 
the  Lord  must  be  a  two-edged  sword  of  truth,  piercing 
to  the  dividing  asunder  even  of  soul  and  spirit.  That 
is  to  say,  into  the  centre  of  energy  the  truth  must  be 
driven  which  kills  the  spirit  of  rebellion,  so  that  the 
will  of  man,  set  free,  may  come  into  conscious  and 
passionate  accord  with  the  will  of  God.  But  recon- 
ciliation is  impossible  unless  each  will  deal  in  the  utmost 
sincerity  with  truth,  realising  the  facts  of  existence, 
the  nature  of  the  soul  and  the  great  necessities  of  its 
discipline.  To  be  true  in  theology  we  must  not  accept 
what  seems  to  be  true,  nor  speak  forensically,  but 
affirm  what  we  have  proved  in  our  own  life  and  gathered 
in  utmost  effort  from  Scripture  and  from  nature.  Men 
inherit  opinions  as  they  used  to  inherit  garments,  or 
devise  them,  like  clothes  of  a  new  fashion,  and  from 
within  the  folds  they  speak,  not  as  men  but  as  priests, 
what  is  the  right  thing  according  to  a  received  theory. 
It  will  not  do.  Even  of  old  time  a  man  like  the  author 
of  Job  turned  contemptuously  from  school-made  ex- 
planation-5  and  sought  a  living  word.  In  our  age  the 
number  of  those  whose  fever  can  be  lulled  with  a 
working  theory  of  religion  and  a  judicious  arrangement 


I70  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

of  the  universe  is  rapidly  becoming  small.     Theology 
is  being  driven  to  look  the  facts  of  life  full  in  the  face. 
If  the  world  has  learned  anything  from  modern  science, 
it  is  the  habit  of  rigorous  research  and  the  justification 
of  free  inquiry,  and  the  lesson  will  never  be  unlearned. 
To  take  one  error  of  theology.     All  men  are  con- 
cluded equally  under  God's  wrath  and  curse ;  then  the 
proofs  of  the  malediction  are  found  in  trouble,  fear  and 
pain.     But  what  comes  of  this  teaching  ?     Out  in  the 
world,  with  facts  forcing  themselves  on  consciousness, 
the  scheme  is  found  hollow.     All  are  not  in  trouble  and 
pain.     Those  who   are   afflicted   and  disappointed  are 
often  sincere  Christians.     A  theory  of  deferred  judg- 
ment and  happiness  is  made  for  escape ;  it  does  not, 
however,  in  the  least  enable  one  to  comprehend  how, 
if  pain   and  trouble  be  the  consequences  of  sin,  they 
should    not    be  distributed  rightly  from   the  first.     A 
universal    moral    order    cannot   begin  in  a  manner  so 
doubtful,   so   very  difficult   for   the  wayfaring  man   to 
read  as  he  goes.     To  hold  that  it  can  is  to  turn  religion 
into  an  occultism  which  at  every  point  bewilders  the 
simple  mind.     The  theory  is  one  which  tends  to  blunt 
the  sense  of  sin  in  those  who  are  prosperous,  and  to 
beget  that  confident  Pharisaism  which  is  the  curse  of 
church-life.    On  the  other  hand,  the  "  sacrificed  classes," 
contrasting  their  own  moral  character  with  that  of  the 
frivolous  and  fleshly  rich,   are  forced  to  throw  over  a 
theology  which  binds  together  sin  and  suffering,  and  to 
deny  a  God  whose  equity  is  so  far  to  seek.     And  yet, 
again,   in   the  recoil  from   all    this  men   invent  wersh 
schemes  of  bland   good-will  and  comfort,  which  have 
simply  nothing  to  do  with  the  facts  of  life,  no  basis  in 
the  world  as  we   know  it,  no  sense  of  the  rigour  of 
Divine  love.     So  Eliphaz,  Bildad  and  Zophar  remain 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  171 

with  US  and  confuse  theology  until  some  think  it  lost 
in  unreason. 

'^  But  ye  arc  patchers  of  lies, 
Physicians  of  nought  are  ye  all. 
Oh  that  ye  ivoiild  only  keep  silence. 
And  it  should  be  your  wisdom.'''  {chap.  xiii.  4,  5). 

Job  sets  them  down  with  a  current  proverb — ''  Even 
a  fool,  when  he  holdeth  his  peace,  is  counted  wise." 
He  begs  them  to  be  silent.  They  shall  now  hear  his 
rebuke. 

"  On  behalf  of  God  will  ye  speak  wrong  ? 
And  for  Him  will  ye  speak  deceit  ? 
Will  ye  be  partisans  for  Hitn  ? 
Or  for  God  will  ye  contend  ?  " 

Job  finds  them  guilty  of  speaking  falsely  as  special 
pleaders  for  God  in  two  respects.  They  insist  that  he 
has  offended  God,  but  they  cannot  point  to  one  sin  which 
he  has  committed.  On  the  other  hand,  they  affirm 
positively  that  God  will  restore  prosperity  if  confession 
is  made.  But  in  this  too  they  play  the  part  of  advocates 
without  warrant.  They  show  great  presumption  in 
daring  to  pledge  the  Almighty  to  a  course  in  accordance 
with  their  idea  of  justice.  The  issue  might  be  what 
they  predict;  it  might  not.  They  are  venturing  on 
ground  to  which  their  knowledge  does  not  extend. 
They  think  their  presumption  justified  because  it  is 
for  rehgion's  sake.  Job  administers  a  sound  rebuke, 
and  it  extends  to  our  own  time.  Special  pleaders  for 
God's  sovereign  and  unconditional  right  and  for  His 
illimitable  good-nature,  alike  have  warning  here.  What 
justification  have  men  in  affirming  that  God  will  work 
out  His  problems  in  detail  according  to  their  views  ? 
He  has  given  to  us  the  power  to  apprehend  the  great 
principles  of  His  working.     He  has  revealed  much  in 


[72  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


nature,  providence,  and  Scripture,  and  in  Christ;  but 
there  is  the  "hiding  of  His  power,"  ''  His  path  is  in  the 
mighty  waters,  and  His  judgments  are  not  known." 
Christ  has  said,  "  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  times  and 
seasons  which  the  Father  hath  set  within  His  own 
authority."  There  are  certainties  of  our  consciousness, 
facts  of  the  world  and  of  revelation  from  which  we  can 
argue.  Where  these  confirm,  we  may  dogmatise,  and 
the  dogma  will  strike  home.  But  no  piety,  no  desire 
to  vindicate  the  Almighty  or  to  convict  and  convert 
the  sinner,  can  justify  any  man  in  passing  beyond  the 
certainty  which  God  has  given  him  to  that  unknown 
which  lies  far  above  human  ken. 

"//(?  ivtll  surely  correct  yon 
If  in  secret  ye  are  partial. 
Shall  not  His  majesty  terrify  you, 
And  His  dread  fall  upon  yon  P"  {chap.  xiii.  lo,  ii). 

The  Book  of  Job,  while  it  brands  insincerity  and 
loose  reasoning,  justifies  all  honest  and  reverent 
research.  Here,  as  in  the  teaching  of  our  Lord,  the 
real  heretic  is  he  who  is  false  to  his  own  reason  and 
conscience,  to  the  truth  of  things  as  God  gives  him 
to  apprehend  it,  who,  in  short,  makes  believe  to  any 
extent  in  the  sphere  of  religion.  And  it  is  upon  this 
man  the  terror  of  the  Divine  majesty  is  to  fall. 

We  saw  how  Bildad  established  himself  on  the 
wisdom  of  the  ancients.  Recalling  this,  Job  flings 
contempt  on  his  traditional  sayings. 

"  Yoiir  reuicrnbranccs  are  proverbs  of  ashes, 
Yojtr  defences,  defences  of  dust ^' 

Did  they  mean  to  smite  him  with  those  proverbs  as 
with  stones  ?  They  were  ashes.  Did  they  intrench 
themselves  from  the  assaults  of  reason  behind  old  sup- 
positions ?     Their   ramparts   were   mere   dust.     Once 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  173 

more  he  bids  them  hold  their  peace,  and  let  him  alone 
that  he  may  speak  out  all  that  is  in  his  mind.  It  is,  he 
knows,  at  the  hazard  of  his  life  he  goes  forward  ;  but 
he  wnll.  The  case  in  which  he  is  can  have  no  remedy 
excepting  by  an  appeal  to  God,  and  that  final  appeal 
he  will  make. 

Now  the  proper  beginning  of  this  appeal  is  in  the 
twent3^-third  verse,  with  the  words  :  "  How  many  are 
mine  iniquities  and  my  sins  ?  "  But  before  Job  reaches 
it  he  expresses  his  sense  of  the  danger  and  difficulty 
under  which  he  lies,  interweaving  with  the  statement 
of  these  a  marvellous  confidence  in  the  result  of  what 
he  is  about  to  do.  Referring  to  the  declarations  of  his 
friends  as  to  the  danger  that  yet  threatens  if  he  will 
not  confess  sin,  he  uses  a  proverbial  expression  for 
hazard  of  life. 

"  WJiy  do  1  take  my  flesh  in  tny  teeth, 
And  put  my  life  in  my  hand  ?  " 

Why  do  I  incur  this  danger,  do  you  say  ?  Never 
mind.  It  is  not  your  affair.  For  bare  existence  I 
care  nothing.  To  escape  with  mere  consciousness  for 
a  while  is  no  object  to  me,  as  I  now  am.  With  my 
life  in  my  hand  I  hasten  to  God. 

"  Lo  !  He  will  slay  me  :  I  will  not  delay — 
Yet  my  ways  will  I  maintain  before  Him  "  {chap.xiii.  15). 

The  old  Version  here,  *'  Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will 
I  trust  in  Him,"  is  inaccurate.  Still  it  is  not  far  from 
expressing  the  brave  purpose  of  the  man — prostrate 
before  God,  yet  resolved  to  cling  to  the  justice  of  the 
case  as  he  apprehends  it,  assured  that  this  will  not 
only  be  excused  by  God,  but  wall  bring  about  his 
acquittal  or  salvation.  To  grovel  in  the  dust,  confess- 
ing  himself  a  miserable   sinner  .-nore  -!-han  worthy  of 


174  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

all  the  sufferings  he  has  undergone,  while  in  his  heart 
he  has  the  consciousness  of  being  upright  and  faithful 
— this  would  not  commend  him  to  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth.  It  would  be  a  mockery  of  truth  and  righteous- 
ness, therefore  of  God  Himself.  On  the  other  hand, 
to  maintain  his  integrity  which  God  gave  him,  to  go 
on  maintaining  it  at  the  hazard  of  all,  is  his  only  course, 
his  only  safety. 

"  This  also  shall  be  my  salvation, 
For  a  godless  man  shall  not  live  before  Him. " 

The  fine  moral  instinct  of  Job,  giving  courage  to  his 
theology,  declares  that  God  demands  ''truth  in  the 
inward  parts  "  and  truth  in  speech — that  man  "  con- 
sists in  truth  " — that  "  if  he  betrays  truth  he  betrays 
himself,"  which  is  a  crime  against  his  Maker.  No  man 
is  so  much  in  danger  of  separating  himself  from  God 
and  losing  everything  as  he  who  acts  or  speaks 
against  conviction. 

Job  has  declared  his  hazard,  that  he  is  lying 
helpless  before  Almighty  Power  which  may  in  a 
moment  crush  him.  He  has  also  expressed  his  faith, 
that  approaching  God  in  the  courage  of  truth  he  will 
not  be  rejected,  that  absolute  sincerity  will  alone  give 
him  a  claim  on  the  Infinitely  True.  Now  turning  to 
his  friends  as  if  in  new  defiance,  he  says  : — 

^^  Hear  diligently  my  speech^ 
And  my  explanation  with  your  ears. 
Behold  now,  I  have  ordered  my  cause  ; 
I  know  that  I  shall  be  justified. 
Who  is  he  that  will  contend  with  me  ? 
For  then  would  I  hold  my  peace  and  expired" 

That  is  to  say,  he  has  reviewed  his  life  once  more,  he 
has  considered  all  nossibilities  of  transgression,  and 
yet  his   contert^J^on  re^^^ins.     So  much  does  he  build 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  175 

upon  his  claim  on  God  that,  if  any  one  could  now 
convict  him,  his  heart  would  fail,  life  would  no  more 
be  worth  living ;  the  foundation  of  hope  destroyed, 
conflict  would  be  at  an  end. 

But  with  his  plea  to  God  still  in  view  he  expresses 
once  more  his  sense  of  the  disadvantage  under  which 
he  lies.  The  pressure  of  the  Divine  hand  is  upon  him 
still,  a  sore  enervating  terror  which  bears  upon  his 
soul.  Would  God  but  give  him  respite  for  a  little  from 
the  pain  and  the  fear,  then  he  would  be  ready  either  to 
answer  the  summons  of  the  Judge  or  make  his  own 
demand  for  vindication. 

We  may  suppose  an  interval  of  release  from  pain  or 
at  least  a  pause  of  expectancy,  and  then,  in  verse 
twenty-third.  Job  begins  his  cry.  The  language  is 
less  vehement  than  we  have  heard.  It  has  more  of 
the  pathos  of  weak  human  life.  He  is  one  with  that 
race  of  thinking,  feeling,  suffering  creatures  who  are 
tossed  about  on  the  waves  of  existence,  driven  before 
the  winds  of  change  like  autumn  leaves.  It  is  the  plea 
of  human  feebleness  and  mortality  we  hear,  and  then, 
as  the  "still  sad  music"  touches  the  lowest  note  of 
wailing,  there  mingles  with  it  the  strain  of  hope. 

"  How  many  are  mine  iniquities  and  sins  ? 
Make  me  to  know  my  transgression  and  my  sin."" 

We  are  not  to  understand  here  that  Job  confesses 
great  transgressions,  nor,  contrariwise,  that  he  denies 
infirmity  and  error  in  himself.  There  are  no  doubt 
failures  of  his  youth  which  remain  in  roemory,  sins  of 
desire,  errors  of  ignorance,  mistakes  in  conduct  such  as 
the  best  men  fall  into.  These  he  does  not  deny.  But 
righteousness  and  happiness  have  been  represented  as 


176  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB, 


a  profit  and  loss  account,  and  therefore  Job  wishes  to 
hear  from  God  a  statement  in  exact  form  of  all  he  has 
done  amiss  or  failed  to  do,  so  that  he  may  be  able  to 
see  the  relation  between  fault  and  suffering,  his  faults 
and  his  sufferings,  if  such  relation  there  be.  It  appears 
that  God  is  counting  him  an  enemy  (ver.  24).  He 
would  like  to  have  the  reason  for  that.  So  far  as  he 
knows  himself  he  has  sought  to  obey  and  honour  the 
Almighty.  Certainly  there  has  never  been  in  his  heart 
any  conscious  desire  to  resist  the  will  of  Eloah.  Is  it 
then  for  transgressions  unwittingly  committed  that  he 
now  suffers — for  sins  he  did  not  intend  or  know  of? 
God  is  just.  It  is  surely  a  part  of  His  justice  to  make 
a  sufferer  aware  why  such  terrible  afQictions  befal 
him. 

And  then — is  it  worth  while  for  the  Almighty  to  be 
so  hard  on  a  poor  weak  mortal  ? 

"  Wilt  thoii  scare  a  driven  leaf — 
Wilt  thou  pursue  the  dry  stubble — 
That  tJiou  writest  bitter  judgments  against  me, 
And  makest  me  to  possess  the  faults  of  my  youth, 
And puttest  rny  feet  in  the  stocks, 
And  voatchest  all  my  paths, 
And  drawest  a  line  about  the  soles  of  my  feet — 
One  who  as  a  rotten  thing  is  consuming, 
As  a  garment  that  is  moth-eaten  ?  " 

The  sense  of  rigid  restraint  and  pitiable  decay  was 
perhaps  never  expressed  with  so  fit  and  vivid  imagery. 
So  far  it  is  personal.  Then  begins  a  general  lamen- 
tation regarding  the  sad  fleeting  life  of  man.  His  own 
prosperity,  which  passed  as  a  dream,  has  become  to  Job 
a  type  of  the  brief  vain  existence  of  the  race  tried  at 
every  moment  by  inexorable  Divine  judgment ;  and  the 
low  mournful  words  of  the  Arabian  chief  have  echoed 
ever  since  in  the  language  of  sorrow  and  loss. 


x'li.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND    FEAR   TO   GOD.  177 

"Man  that  is  born  of  woman, 
Offetv  days  is  he  and  full  of  tronble. 
Like  the  flower  he  springs  up  and  withers  ; 
Like  a  shadow  he  flees  and  stays  not. 
Is  it  on  such  a  one  Thou  hast  fixed  Thine  eye  ? 
Bringest  Thou  nie  into  Thy  judgment  ? 
Oh  that  the  clean  might  come  out  of  the  unclean  ! 
But  there  is  not  one. " 

Human  frailty  is  both  of  the  body  and  of  the  soul  ; 
and  it  is  universal.  The  nativity  of  men  forbids  their 
purity.  Well  does  God  know  the  weakness  of  His 
creatures  ;  and  why  then  does  He  expect  of  them,  if 
indeed  He  expects,  a  pureness  that  can  stand  the  test 
of  His  searching  ?  Job  cannot  be  free  from  the  common 
infirmity  of  mortals.  He  is  born  of  woman.  But  why 
then  is  he  chased  with  inquiry,  haunted  and  scared 
by  a  righteousness  he  cannot  satisfy  ?  Should  not  the 
Great  God  be  forbearing  with  a  man  ? 

"Since  his  days  are  determined, 
The  number  of  his  moons  with  Thee, 
And  Thou  hast  set  him  bounds  rtot  to  be  passed ; 
Look  Thou  aivay  from  him,  that  he  may  rest. 
At  least  fulfil  as  a  hireling  his  day.''' 

Man's  life  being  so  short,  his  death  so  sure  and  soon, 
seeing  he  is  like  a  hireling  in  the  world,  might  he  not 
be  allowed  a  little  rest  ?  might  he  not,  as  one  who  has 
fulfilled  his  day's  work,  be  let  go  for  a  little  repose  ere 
he  die  ?  That  certain  death,  it  weighs  upon  him  now, 
pressing  down  his  thought. 

"  For  even  a  tree  hath  hope  ; 
If  it  be  hewn  down  it  will  sprout  anew, 
The  young  shoot  thereof  will  not  fail. 
If  in  the  earth  its  root  wax  old. 
Or  in  the  groimd  its  stock  should  die, 
Yet  at  the  scent  of  water  it  will  spring, 
And  shoot  forth  boughs  like  a  new  plant- 
But  a  man  :  he  dies  and  is  cut  off; 

12 


178  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

Yea,  when  men  die,  they  are  gone. 

Ebbs  away  the  water  from,  the  sea. 

And  the  stream  decays  and  dries  : 

So  when  men  have  lain  down  they  rise  not ; 

Till  the  heavens  vanish  they  never  awake, 

Nor  are  they  roused  from  their  sleep." 

No  arguments,  no  promises  can  break  this  deep  gloom 
and  silence  into  which  the  life  of  man  passes.  Once 
Job  had  sought  death  ;  now  a  desire  has  grown  within 
him,  and  with  it  recoil  from  Sheol.  To  meet  God, 
to  obtain  his  own  justification  and  the  clearing  of 
Divine  righteousness,  to  have  the  problem  of  life  ex- 
plained— the  hope  of  this  makes  life  precious.  Is  he 
to  lie  down  and  rise  no  more  while  the  skies  endure  ? 
Is  no  voice  to  reach  him  from  the  heavenly  justice  he 
has  always  confided  in  ?  The  very  thought  is  con- 
founding. If  he  were  now  to  desire  death  it  would 
mean  that  he  had  given  up  all  faith,  that  justice,  truth, 
and  even  the  Divine  name  of  Eloah  had  ceased  to  have 
any  value  for  him. 

We  are  to  behold  the  rise  of  a  new  hope,  like  a  star 
in  the  firmament  of  his  thought.  Whence  does  it 
spring  ? 

The  religion  of  the  Book  of  Job,  as  already  shown, 
is,  in  respect  of  form,  a  natural  religion  ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  ideas  are  not  derived  from  the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 
The  writer  does  not  refer  to  the  legislation  of  Moses 
and  the  great  words  of  prophets.  The  expression  ''As 
the  Lord  said  unto  Moses  "  does  not  occur  in  this  book, 
nor  any  equivalent.  It  is  through  nature  and  the 
human  consciousness  that  the  religious  beliefs,  of  the 
poem  appear  to  have  come  into  shape.  Yet  two  facts 
are  to  be  kept  fully  in  view. 

The  first  is  that  even  a  natural  religion  must  not  be 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR   TO   GOD.  179 

supposed  to  be  a  thing  of  man's  invention,  with  no 
origin  further  than  his  dreams.  We  must  not  declare 
all  religious  ideas  outside  those  of  Israel  to  be  mere 
fictions  of  the  human  fancy  or  happy  guesses  at  truth. 
The  religion  of  Teman  may  have  owed  some  of  its  great 
thoughts  to  Israel.  But,  apart  from  that,  a  basis  of 
Divine  revelation  is  always  laid  wherever  men  think 
and  live.  In  every  land  the  heart  of  man  has  borne 
witness  to  God.  Reverent  thought,  dwelling  on  justice, 
truth,  mercy,  and  all  virtues  found  in  the  range  of 
experience  and  consciousness,  came  through  them  to 
the  idea  of  God.  Every  one  who  made  an  induction  as 
to  the  Great  Unseen  Being,  his  mind  open  to  the  facts 
of  nature  and  his  own  moral  constitution,  was  in  a 
sense  a  prophet.  As  far  as  they  went,  the  reality  and 
value  of  religious  ideas,  so  reached,  are  acknowledged 
by  Bible  writers  themselves.  "  The  invisible  things  of 
God  from  the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen, 
being  perceived  through  the  things  that  are  made,  even 
His  everlasting  power  and  divinity."  God  has  always 
been  revealing  Himself  to  men. 

"  Natural  religion "  we  say :  and  yet,  since  God  is 
always  revealing  Himself  and  has  made  all  men  more 
or  less  capable  of  apprehending  the  revelation,  even 
the  natural  is  supernatural.  Take  the  religion  of 
Egypt,  or  of  Chaldsea,  or  of  Persia.  You  may  contrast 
any  one  of  these  with  the  religion  of  Israel ;  you  may 
call  the  one  natural,  the  other  revealed.  But  the 
Persian  speaking  of  the  Great  Good  Spirit  or  the 
Chaldaean  worshipping  a  supreme  Lord  must  have  had 
some  kind  of  revelation ;  and  his  sense  of  it,  not  clear 
indeed,  far  enough  below  that  of  Moses  or  Isaiah,  was 
yet  a  forth-reaching  towards  the  same  light  as  now 
shines  for  us. 


i8o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

Next  we  must  keep  it  in  view  that  Job  does  not 
appear  as  a  thinker  building  on  himself  alone,  depend- 
ing on  his  own  religious  experience.  Centuries  and 
ages  of  thought  are  behind  these  beliefs  which  are 
ascribed  to  him,  even  the  ideas  which  seem  to  start 
up  freshly  as  the  result  of  original  discovery.  Imagine 
a  man  thinking  for  himself  about  Divine  things  in  that 
far-away  Arabian  past.  His  mind,  to  begin  with,  is 
not  a  blank.  His  father  has  instructed  him.  There 
is  a  faith  that  has  come  down  from  many  generations. 
He  has  found  words  in  use  which  hold  in  them  religious 
ideas,  discoveries,  perceptions  of  Divine  reality,  caught 
and  fixed  ages  before.  When  he  learned  language  the 
products  of  evolution,  not  only  psychical,  but  intellectual 
and  spiritual,  became  his.  Eloah,  the  lofty  one,  the 
righteousness  of  Eloah,  the  word  of  Eloah,  Eloah  as 
Creator,  as  Watcher  of  men,  Eloah  as  wise,  unsearch- 
able in  wisdom,  as  strong,  infinitely  mighty, — these  are 
ideas  he  has  not  struck  out  for  himself,  but  inherited. 
Clearly  then  a  new  thought,  springing  from  these, 
comes  as  a  supernatural  communication  and  has  behind 
it  ages  of  spiritual  evolution.  It  is  new,  but  has  its 
root  in  the  old ;  it  is  natural,  but  originates  in  the 
over-nature. 

Now  the  primitive  religion  of  the  Semites,  the  race 
to  v.'hich  Job  belonged,  to  which  also  the  Hebrews 
belonged,  has  been  of  late  carefully  studied ;  and  with 
regard  to  it  certain  things  have  been  established  that 
bear  on  the  new  hope  we  are  to  find  struck  out  by  the 
Man  of  Uz. 

In  the  early  morning  of  religious  thought  among  those 
Semites  it  was  universally  believed  that  the  members 
of  a  family  or  tribe,  united  by  blood-relationship  to 
each  other,  were  also  related  in  the  same  way  to  their 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  i8i 

God.  He  was  their  father,  the  invisible  head  and 
source  of  their  community,  on  whom  they  had  a  claim 
so  long  as  they  pleased  him.  His  interest  in  them  was 
secured  by  the  sacrificial  meal  which  he  was  invited 
and  believed  to  share  with  them.  If  he  had  been 
offended,  the  sacrificial  offering  w^as  the  means  of 
recovering  his  favour ;  and  communion  with  him  in 
those  meals  and  sacrifices  was  the  inheritance  of  all 
who  claimed  the  kinship  of  that  clan  or  tribe.  With 
the  clearing  of  spiritual  vision  this  belief  took  a  new 
form  in  the  minds  of  the  more  thoughtful.  The  idea  of 
communion  remained  and  the  necessity  of  it  to  the  life 
of  the  worshipper  was  felt  even  more  strongly  when 
the  kinship  of  the  God  with  his  subject  family  was,  for 
the  few  at  least,  no  longer  an  affair  of  physical  descent 
and  blood-relationship,  but  of  spiritual  origin  and 
attachment.  And  when  faith  rose  from  the  tribal  god 
to  the  idea  of  the  Heaven-Father,  the  one  Creator 
and  King,  communion  with  Him  was  felt  to  be  in  the 
highest  sense  a  vital  necessity.  Here  is  found  the 
religion  of  Job.  A  main  element  of  it  was  communion 
with  Eloah,  an  ethical  kinship  with  Him,  no  arbitrary 
or  merely  physical  relation,  but  of  the  spirit.  That  is 
to  say,  Job  has  at  the  heart  of  his  creed  the  truth  as 
to  man's  origin  and  nature.  The  author  of  the  book 
is  a  Hebrew ;  his  own  faith  is  that  of  the  people  from 
whom  we  have  the  Book  of  Genesis  ;  but  he  treats  here 
of  man's  relation  to  God  from  the  ethnic  side,  such  as 
may  be  taken  now  by  a  reasoner  treating  of  spiritual 
evolution. 

Communion  with  Eloah  had  been  Job's  life,  and  with 
it  had  been  associated  his  many  years  of  wealth, 
dignity,  and  influence.  Lest  his  children  should  fall 
from   it   and  lose  their  most  precious  inheritance,  he 


i82  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

used  to  bring  the  periodical  offerings.  But  at  length 
his  own  communion  was  interrupted.  The  sense  of 
being  at  one  with  Eloah,  if  not  lost,  became  dull  -and 
faint.  It  is  for  the  restoration  of  his  very  life — not 
as  we  might  think  of  religious  feeling,  but  of  actual 
spirit  energy — he  is  now  concerned.  It  is  this  that 
underlies  his  desire  for  God  to  speak  with  him,  his 
demand  for  an  opportunity  of  pleading  his  cause. 
Some  might  expect  that  he  would  ask  his  friends  to 
offer  sacrifice  on  his  behalf  But  he  makes  no  such 
request.  The  crisis  has  come  in  a  region  higher  than 
sacrifice,  where  observances  are  of  no  use.  Thought 
only  can  reach  it ;  the  discovery  of  reconciling  truth 
alone  can  satisfy.  Sacrifices  which  for  the  old  world 
sustained  the  relation  with  God  could  no  more  for  Job 
restore  the  intimacy  of  the  spiritual  Lord.  With  a 
passion  for  this  fellowship  keener  than  ever,  since  he 
now  more  distinctly  realises  what  it  is,  a  fear  blends 
in  the  heart  of  the  man.  Death  will  be  upon  him  soon. 
Severed  from  God  he  will  fall  away  into  the  privation 
of  that  world  where  is  neither  praise  nor  service,  know- 
ledge nor  device.  Yet  the  truth  which  lies  at  the 
heart  of  his  religion  does  not  yield.  Leaning  all  upon 
it,  he  finds  it  strong,  elastic.  He  sees  at  least  a  possi- 
bility of  reconciHation  ;  for  how  can  the  way  back  to 
God  ever  be  quite  closed  ? 

What  difficulty  there  was  in  his  effort  we  know. 
To  the  common  thought  of  the  time  when  this  book 
was  written,  say  that  of  Hezekiah,  the  state  of  the  dead 
was  not  extinction  indeed,  but  an  existence  of  extreme 
tenuity  and  feebleness.  In  Sheol  there  was  nothing 
active.  The  hollow  ghost  of  the  man  was  conceived 
of  as  neither  hoping  nor  fearing,  neither  originating 
nor  receiving  impressions.     Yet  Job  dares  to  anticipate 


xii.-xiv.]      BEYOND  FACT  AND  FEAR    TO   GOD.  183 

that  even  in  Sheol  a  set  time  of  remembrance  will 
be  ordained  for  him  and  he  shall  hear  the  thrilling 
call  of  God.  As  it  approaches  this  climax  the  poem 
flashes  and  glows  with  prophetic  fire. 

"  Oh  that  Thou  woidd^st  hide  me  in  Sheol, 
That  Thou  would'st  keep  tne  secret  until  Thy  wrath  be  past, 
That  Thou  would  st  appoint  a  set  time,  and  remember  me  ! 
IJ  a  {strong)  man  die,  shall  he  live  ? 
All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  would  I  luait 
Till  my  release  came. 

Thou  would' st  call,  I  would  answer  Thee  ; 
Thou  woiddst  have  a  desire  to  the  work  of  Thy  hands." 

Not  easily  can  we  now  realise  the  extraordinary  step 
forward  made  in  thought  when  the  anticipation  was 
thrown  out  of  spiritual  life  going  on  beyond  death 
(''would  I  wait"),  retaining  intellectual  potency  in 
that  region  otherwise  dark  and  void  to  the  human 
imagination  ("  I  would  answer  Thee  ").  From  both  the 
human  side  and  the  Divine  the  poet  has  advanced  a 
magnificent  intuition,  a  springing  arch  into  which  he  is 
unable  to  fit  the  keystone — the  spiritual  body ;  for  He 
only  could  do  this  who  long  afterwards  came  to  be 
Himself  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life.  But  when 
this  poem  of  Job  had  been  given  to  the  world  a  new 
thought  was  implanted  in  the  soul  of  the  race,  a  new 
hope  that  should  fight  against  the  darkness  of  Sheol 
till  that  morning  when  the  sunrise  fell  upon  an  empty 
sepulchre,  and  one  standing  in  the  light  asked  of 
sorrowful  men,  Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the 
dead  ? 

'*  Thou  would'st  have  a  desire  to  the  work  of  Thy 
hands."  What  a  philosophy  of  Divine  care  underlies 
the  words  !  They  come  with  a  force  Job  seems  hardly 
to  realise.     Is  there  a  High  One  who  makes  men  in 


184  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


His  own  image,  capable  of  fine  achievement,  and  then 
casts  them  away  in  discontent  or  loathing  ?  The  voice 
of  the  poet  rings  in  a  passionate  key  because  he  rises  to 
a  thought  practically  new  to  the  human  mind.  He  has 
broken  through  barriers  both  of  faith  and  doubt  into 
the  light  of  his  hope  and  stands  trembling  on  the  verge 
of  another  world.  "  One  must  have  had  a  keen  per- 
ception of  the  profound  relation  between  the  creature 
and  his  Maker  in  the  past  to  be  able  to  give  utterance 
to  such  an  imaginative  expectation  respecting  the 
future." 

But  the  wrath  of  God  still  appears  to  rest  upon  Job's 
life;  still  He  seems  to  keep  in  reserve,  sealed  up, 
unrevealed,  some  record  of  transgressions  for  which 
He  has  condemned  His  servant.  From  the  height  of 
hope  Job  falls  away  into  an  abject  sense  of  the  decay 
and  misery  to  which  man  is  brought  by  the  continued 
rigour  of  Eloah's  examination.  As  with  shocks  of 
earthquake  mountains  are  broken,  and  waters  by 
constant  flowing  wash  down  the  soil  and  the  plants 
rooted  in  it,  so  human  life  is  wasted  by  the  Divine 
severity.  In  the  world  the  children  whom  a  man  loved 
are  exalted  or  brought  low,  but  he  knows  nothing  of 
it.  His  flesh  corrupts  in  the  grave  and  his  soul  in 
Sheol  languishes. 

"  Thoii  destroy  est  the  hope  of  man. 
Thou  ever  prevailest  against  him,  and  he  passeth  ; 
Thou  changest  his  countenance  and  sendest  him  away." 

The  real  is  at  this  point  so  grim  and  insistent  as  to 
shut  off  the  ideal  and  confine  thought  again  to  its  own 
range.  The  energy  of  the  prophetic  mind  is  over- 
borne, and  unintelligible  fact  surrounds  and  presses 
hard  the  struggling  personality. 


THE    SECOND    COLLOQUY. 


185 


XIII. 

THE   TRADITION  OF  A   PURE  RACE. 
Eliphaz  speaks.     Chap,  xv. 

THE  first  colloquy  has  made  clear  severance 
between  the  old  Theology  and  the  facts  of  human 
life.  No  positive  reconciliation  is  effected  as  yet 
between  reality  and  faith,  no  new  reading  of  Divine 
providence  has  been  offered.  The  author  allows  the 
friends  on  the  one  hand,  Job  on  the  other,  to  seek  the 
end  of  controversy  just  as  men  in  their  circumstances 
would  in  real  life  have  sought  it.  Unable  to  penetrate 
behind  the  veil  the  one  side  cHngs  obstinately  to  the 
ancestral  faith,  on  the  other  side  the  persecuted 
sufferer  strains  after  a  hope  of  vindication  apart  from 
any  return  of  health  and  prosperity,  which  he  dares 
not  expect.  One  of  the  conditions  of  the  problem  is 
the  certainty  of  death.  Before  death,  repentance  and 
restoration, — say  the  friends.  Death  immediate,  there- 
fore should  God  hear  me,  vindicate  me, — says  Job.  In 
desperation  he  breaks  through  to  the  hope  that  God's 
wrath  will  pass  even  though  his  scared  and  harrowed 
life  be  driven  into  Sheol.  For  a  moment  he  sees  the 
light ;  then  it  seems  to  expire.  To  the  orthodox 
friends  any  such  thought  is  a  kind  of  blasphemy. 
They  believe  in  the  nullity  of  the  state  beyond  death. 
There  is  no  wisdom  nor  hope  in  the  grave.       "  The 

187 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


dead  know  not  anything,  neither  have  they  any  more  a 
reward ;  for  the  memory  of  them  is  forgotten  " — even 
by  God.  "As  well  their  love,  as  their  hatred  and 
their  envy,  is  now  perished  ;  neither  have  they  any 
more  a  portion  for  ever  in  anything  that  is  done  under 
the  sun  "  (Eccles.  ix.  5,  6).  On  the  mind  of  Job  this 
dark  shadow  falls  and  hides  the  star  of  his  hope.  To 
pass  away  under  the  reprobation  of  men  and  of  God,  to 
suffer  the  final  stroke  and  be  lost  for  ever  in  the  deep 
darkness  ; — anticipating  this,  how  can  he  do  otherwise 
than  make  a  desperate  fight  for  his  own  consciousness 
of  right  and  for  God's  intervention  while  yet  any 
breath  is  left  in  him  ?  He  persists  in  this.  The  friends 
do  not  approach  him  one  step  in  thought  ;  instead  of 
being  moved  by  his  pathetic  entreaties  they  draw  back 
into  more  bigoted  judgment. 

In  opening  the  new  circle  of  debate  Eliphaz  might 
be  expected  to  yield  a  little,  to  admit  something  in  the 
claim  of  the  sufferer,  granting  at  least  for  the  sake  of 
argument  that  his  case  is  hard.  But  the  writer  wishes 
to  show  the  rigour  and  determination  of  the  old 
creed,  or  rather  of  the  men  who  preach  it.  He  will 
not  allow  them  one  sign  of  rapprochement.  In  the 
same  order  as  before  the  three  advance  their  theory, 
making  no  attempt  to  explain  the  facts  of  human 
existence  to  which  their  attention  has  been  called. 
Between  the  first  and  the  second  round  there  is, 
indeed,  a  change  of  position,  but  in  the  line  of  greater 
hardness.  The  change  is  thus  marked.  Each  of  the 
three,  differing  toto  coelo  from  Job's  view  of  his  case, 
had  introduced  an  encouraging  promise.  Eliphaz  had 
spoken  of  six  troubles,  yea  seven,  from  which  one 
should  be  delivered  if  he  accepted  the  chastening  of 
the  Lord.     Bildad  affirmed 


XV.]  THE   TRADITION  OF  A   PURE   RACE.  189 


"  Behold,  God  ivill  not  cast  away  the  perfect : 
He  ivill  yet  fill  thy  mouth  with  laughter 
And  thy  lips  -with  shouting.'" 

Zophar  had  said  that  if  Job  would  put  away  iniquity 
he  should  be  led  into  fearless  calm. 

"  Tlio'u  shall  be  steadfast  and  not  fear, 
For  thou  shall  forget  thy  misery  ; 
Remember  it  as  ivatcrs  that  are  passed  by." 

That  is  a  note  of  the  first  series  of  arguments  ;  we 
hear  nothing  of  it  in  the  second.  One  after  another 
drives  home  a  stern,  uncompromising  judgment. 

The  dramatic  art  of  the  author  has  introduced 
several  touches  into  the  second  speech  of  Eliphaz 
which  maintain  the  personality.  For  example,  the 
formula  ''  I  have  seen "  is  carried  on  from  the  former 
address  where  it  repeatedly  occurs,  and  is  now  used 
quite  incidentally,  therefore  with  all  the  more  effect. 
Again  the  "crafty"  are  spoken  of  in  both  addresses 
with  contempt  and  aversion,  neither  of  the  other  inter- 
locutors of  Job  nor  Job  himself  using  the  word.  The 
thought  of  chap.  xv.  15  is  also  the  same  as  that 
ventured  upon  in  chap.  iv.  18,  a  return  to  the  oracle 
which  gave  Eliphaz  his  claim  to  be  a  prophet.  Mean- 
while he  adopts  from  Bildad  the  appeal  to  ancient 
'  belief  in  support  of  his  position  ;  but  he  has  an  original 
way  of  enforcing  this  appeal.  As  a  pure  Temanite  he 
is  animated  by  the  pride  of  race  and  claims  more  for 
his  progenitors  than  could  be  allowed  to  a  Shuchite  or 
Naamathite,  more,  certainly,  than  could  be  allowed  to 
one  who  dwelt  among  worshippers  of  the  sun  and 
moon.  As  a  whole  the  thought  of  Eliphaz  remains 
w^hat  it  was,  but  more  closely  brought  to  a  point.  He 
does    not  wander  now  in  search  of  possible  explana- 


[90  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


tions.  He  fancies  that  Job  has  convicted  himself  and 
that  little  remains  but  to  show  most  definitely  the  fate 
he  seems  bent  on  provoking.  It  will  be  a  kindness  to 
impress  this  on  his  mind. 

The  first  part  of  the  address,  extending  to  verse  13, 
is  an  expostulation  with  Job,  whom  in  irony  he  calls 
^'  wise."  Should  a  wise  man  use  empty  unprofitable 
talk,  fining  his  bosom,  as  it  were,  with  the  east  wind, 
peculiarly  blustering  and  arid  ?  Yet  what  Job  says  is 
not  only  unprofitable,  it  is  profane. 

"  Thoii  doest  away  with  piety 
And  hinderest  devotion  before  God. 
For  thine  iniquity  instructs  thy  mouthy 
And  thou  choosest  the  tongue  of  the  crafty. 

Thine  own  mouth  condenineth  thee  ;  not  I ; 

Thine  own  lips  testify  against  thee." 

Eliphaz  is  thoroughly  sincere.  Some  of  the  ex- 
pressions used  by  his  friend  must  have  seemed  to  him 
to  strike  at  the  root  of  reverence.  Which  were  they  ? 
One  was  the  affirmation  that  tents  of  robbers  prosper 
and  they  that  provoke  God  are  secure  ;  another  the 
daring  statement  that  the  deceived  and  the  deceiver  are 
both  God's  ;  again  the  confident  defence  of  his  own  life  : 
'^  Behold  now  I  have  ordered  my  cause,  I  know  that  I  am 
righteous  ;  who  is  he  that  will  contend  with  me  ?  "  and 
once  more  his  demand  why  God  harassed  him,  a  driven 
leaf,  treating  him  with  oppressive  cruelty.  Things 
like  these  were  very  offensive  to  a  mind  surcharged 
with  veneration  and  occupied  with  a  single  idea  of 
Divine  government.  From  the  first  convinced  that 
gross  fault  or  arrogant  self-will  had  brought  down  the 
malediction  of  God,  EHphaz  could  not  but  think  that 
Job's  iniquity  was  "  teaching  his  mouth "  (coming 
out  in  his  speech,  forcing  him  to  profane  expressions). 


XV.]  THE   TRADITION  OF  A   PURE  RACE.  191 

and  that  he  was  choosing  the  tongue  of  the  crafty.  It 
seemed  that  he  was  trying  to  throw  dust  in  their  eyes. 
With  the  cunning  and  shiftiness  of  a  man  who  hoped 
to  carry  off  his  evil-doing,  he  had  talked  of  maintaining 
his  ways  before  God  and  being  vindicated  in  that 
region  where,  as  every  one  knew,  recovery  was  im- 
possible. The  ground  of  all  certainty  and  belief  was 
shaken  by  those  vehement  words.  Eliphaz  felt  that 
piety  was  done  away  and  devotion  hindered,  he  could 
scarcely  breathe  a  prayer  in  this  atmosphere  foul  with 
scepticism  and  blasphemy. 

The  writer  means  us  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of 
this  man,  to  think  with  him,  for  the  time,  sympathetic- 
ally. It  is  no  moral  fault  to  be  over-jealous  for  the 
Almighty,  although  it  is  a  misconception  of  man's 
place  and  duty,  as  Elijah  learned  in  the  wilderness, 
when,  having  claimed  to  be  the  only  believer  left,  he 
was  told  there  were  seven  thousand  that  never  bowed 
the  knee  to  Baal.  The  speaker  has  this  justification, 
that  he  does  not  assume  office  as  advocate  for  God. 
His  religion  is  part  of  him,  his  feeling  of  shock  and 
disturbance  quite  natural.  Blind  to  the  unfairness  of 
the  situation  he  does  not  consider  the  incivility  of 
joining  with  two  others  to  break  down  one  sick 
bereaved  man,  to  scare  a  driven  leaf.  This  is  accidental. 
Controversy  begun,  a  pious  man  is  bound  to  carry  on, 
as  long  as  may  be  necessary,  the  argument  which  is  to 
save  a  soul. 

Nevertheless,   being  human,    he   mingles  a   tone   of 
sarcasm  as  he  proceeds. 

"  The  first  man  wast  thou  born  ? 
Or  wast  thou  made  before  the  hills  ? 
Did'st  thou  hearken  in  the  conclave  of  God  ? 
And  dost  thou  keep  the  wisdom  to  thyself?  " 


192  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


Job  had  accused  his  friends  of  speaking  unrighteously 
for  God  and  respecting  His  person.  This  pricked. 
Instead  of  replying  in  soft  words  as  he  claims  to  have 
been  doing  hitherto  ("  Are  the  consolations  of  God  too 
small  for  thee  and  a  word  that  dealt  tenderly  with 
thee  ? "),  Eliphaz  takes  to  the  sarcastic  proverb. 
The  author  reserves  dramatic  gravity  and  passion  for 
Job,  as  a  rule,  and  marks  the  others  by  varying  tones 
of  intellectual  hardness,  of  current  raillery.  Eliphaz 
now  is  permitted  to  show  more  of  the  self-defender 
than  the  defender  of  faith.  The  result  is  a  loss  of 
dignity. 

"  What  knovoest  thoii  that  zue  know  not  ? 
What  imderstandest  thou  that  is  not  in  tts  ?  " 

After  all  it  is  man's  reason  against  man's  reason. 
The  answer  will  only  come  in  the  judgment  of  the 
Highest. 

"  With  us  is  he  who  is  both  grey-haired  and  very  old, 
Older  in  days  than  thy  fatlier.''' 

Not  Eliphaz  himself  surely.  That  would  be  to 
claim  too  great  antiquity.  Besides,  it  seems  a  little 
wanting  in  sense.  More  probably  there  is  reference 
to  some  aged  rabbi,  such  as  every  community  loved  to 
boast  of,  the  Nestor  of  the  clan,  full  of  ancient  wisdom. 
Eliphaz  really  believes  that  to  be  old  is  to  be  near  the 
fountain  of  truth.  There  was  an  origin  of  faith  and 
pure  life.  The  fathers  were  nearer  that  holy  source  ; 
and  wisdom  meant  going  back  as  far  as  possible  up 
the  stream.  To  insist  on  this  was  to  place  a  real 
barrier  in  the  way  of  Job's  self-defence.  He  would 
scarcely  deny  it  as  the  theory  of  religion.  What  then 
of  his  individual  protest,  his  philosophy  of  the  hour 
and   of   his   own   wishes  ?     The    conflict  is   presented 


XV..]  THE    TRADITION  OF  A   PURE  RACE.  193 


here  with  much  subtlety,  a  standing  controversy  in 
human  thought.  Fixed  principles  there  must  be ; 
personal  research,  experience  and  passion  there  are, 
new  with  every  new  age.  How  settle  the  antithesis  ? 
The  Catholic  doctrine  has  not  yet  been  struck  out  that 
will  fuse  in  one  commanding  law  the  immemorial  con- 
victions of  the  race  and  the  widening  visions  of  the 
living  soul.  The  agitation  of  the  church  to-day  is 
caused  by  the  presence  within  her  of  Eliphaz  and  Job 
— Eliphaz  standing  for  the  fathers  and  their  faith.  Job 
passing  through  a  fever-crisis  of  experience  and  finding 
no  remedy  in  the  old  interpretations.  The  church  is 
apt  to  say.  Here  is  moral  disease,  sin  ;  we  have  nothing 
for  that  but  rebuke  and  aversion.  Is  it  wonderful  that 
the  tried  life,  conscious  of  integrity,  rises  in  indignant 
revolt  ?  The  taunt  of  sin,  scepticism,  rationalism  or 
self-will  is  too  ready  a  weapon,  a  sword  worn  always 
by  the  side  or  carried  in  the  hand.  Within  the  House 
of  God  men  should  not  go  armed,  as  if  brethren  in 
Christ  might  be  expected  to  prove  traitors. 

The  question  of  the  eleventh  verse — ^'  Are  the  con- 
solations of  God  too  small  for  thee  ?  " — is  intended  to 
cover  the  whole  of  the  arguments  already  used  by  the 
friends  and  is  arrogant  enough  as  implying  a  Divine 
commission  exercised  by  them.  ''  The  word  that  dealt 
tenderly  with  thee,"  says  Eliphaz  ;  but  Job  has  his 
own  idea  of  the  tenderness  and  seems  to  convey  it 
by  an  expressive  gesture  or  glance  which  provokes  a 
retort  almost  angry  from  the  speaker, — 

"  Why  doth  thine  heart  carry  thee  away, 
And  vchy  do  thine  eyes  wink, 
That  thou  turnest  thy  breathing  against  God, 
And  sendest  words  out  of  thy  mouth  ?  " 

We    may    understand    a    brief    emphatic    word    of 

13 


[94  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


repudiation  not  unmixed  with  contempt  and,  at  the 
same  time,  not  easy  to  lay  hold  of.  Eliphaz  now  feels 
that  he  may  properly  insist  on  the  wickedness  of  man 
— painfully  illustrated  in  Job  himself — and  depict  the 
certain  fate  of  him  who  defies  the  Almighty  and  trusts 
in  his  own  "  vanity."  The  passage  is  from  first  to  last 
repetition,  but  has  new  colour  of  the  quasi-prophetic 
kind  and  a  certain  force  and  eloquence  that  give  it  fresh 
interest. 

Formerly  Eliphaz  had  said,  ''Shall  man  be  just  beside 
God  ?  Behold  He  putteth  no  trust  in  His  servants, 
and  His  angels  He  chargeth  with  folly."  Now,  with 
a  keener  emphasis,  and  adopting  Job's  own  confession 
that  man  born  of  woman  is  impure,  he  asserts  the 
doctrine  of  creaturely  imperfection  and  human  corrup- 
tion. 

"  Eloah  trusteth  not  in  His  holy  ones, 
And  the  heavens  are  not  pure  in  His  sight ; 
How  much  less  the  abominable  and  corrupt, 
Man,  who  drinketh  iniquity  as  water  !  " 

First  is  set  forth  the  refusal  of  God  to  put  confidence 
in  the  holiest  creature, — a  touch,  as  it  were,  of  suspicion 
in  the  Divine  rule.  A  statement  of  the  holiness  of 
God  otherwise  very  impressive  is  marred  by  this  too 
anthropomorphic  suggestion.  Why,  is  not  the  opposite 
true,  that  the  Creator  puts  wonderful  trust  not  only  in 
saints  but  in  sinners  ?  He  trusts  men  with  life,  with 
the  care  of  the  little  children  whom  He  loves,  with  the 
use  in  no  small  degree  of  His  creation,  the  powers  and 
resources  of  a  world.  True,  there  is  a  reservation. 
At  no  point  is  the  creature  allowed  to  rule.  Saint 
and  sinner,  man  and  angel  are  alike  under  law  and 
observation.  None  of  them  can  be  other  than  ser- 
vants, none  of  them  can  ever  speak  the  final  word  or 


XV.]  THE   TRADITION   OF  A    PURE  RACE.  195 

do  the  last  thing  in  any  cause.  Ehphaz  therefore  is 
deahng  with  a  large  truth,  one  never  to  be  forgotten 
or  disallowed.  Yet  he  fails  to  make  right  use  of  it,  for 
his  second  point,  that  of  the  total  corruption  of  human 
nature,  ought  to  imply  that  God  does  not  trust  man 
at  all.  The  logic  is  bad  and  the  doctrine  will  hardly 
square  with  the  reference  to  human  wisdom  and  to 
wise  persons  holding  the  secret  of  God  of  whom 
Eliphaz  goes  on  to  speak.  Against  him  two  lines  of 
reasoning  are  evident.  Abominable,  gone  sour  or 
putrid,  to  whom  evil  is  a  necessary  of  existence  like 
water — if  man  be  that,  his  Creator  ought  surely  to 
sweep  him  away  and  be  done  with  him.  But  since,  on 
the  other  hand,  God  maintains  the  life  of  human  beings 
and  honours  them  with  no  small  confidence,  it  would 
seem  that  man,  sinful  as  he  is,  bad  as  he  often  is,  does 
not  lie  under  the  contempt  of  his  Maker,  is  not  set 
beyond  a  service  of  hope.  In  short,  Eliphaz  sees  only 
what  he  chooses  to  see.  His  statements  are  devout 
and  striking,  but  too  rigid  for  the  manifoldness  of  life. 
He  makes  it  felt,  even  while  he  speaks,  that  he  himself 
in  some  way  stands  apart  from  the  race  he  judges  so 
hardly.  So  far  as  the  inspiration  of  this  book  goes,  it 
is  against  the  doctrine  of  total  corruption  as  put  into 
the  mouth  of  Eliphaz.  He  intends  a  final  and  crushing 
assault  on  the  position  taken  up  by  Job ;  but  his  mind 
is  prejudiced,  and  the  man  he  condemns  is  God's 
approved  servant,  who,  in  the  end,  will  have  to  pray 
for  Eliphaz  that  he  may  not  be  dealt  with  after  his 
folly.  Quotation  of  the  words  of  Eliphaz  in  proof  of 
total  depravity  is  a  grave  error.  The  race  is  sinful ; 
all  men  sin,  inherit  sinful  tendencies  and  yield  to  them  : 
who  does  not  confess  it  ?  But, — all  men  abominable 
and  corrupt,  drinking  iniquity  as  water, — that  is  untrue 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


at  any  rate  of  the  very  person  Eliphaz  engages  to 
convict. 

It  is  remarkable  that  there  is  not  a  single  word  of 
personal  confession  in  any  speech  made  by  the  friends. 
They  are  concerned  merely  to  state  a  creed  supposed 
to  be  honouring  to  God,  a  full  justification  from  their 
point  of  view  of  His  dealings  with  men.  The  sovereignty 
of  God  must  be  vindicated  by  attributing  this  entire 
vileness  to  man,  stripping  the  creature  of  every  claim 
on  the  consideration  of  his  Maker.  The  great  evan- 
gelical teachers  have  not  so  driven  home  their  reasoning. 
Augustine  began  with  the  evil  in  his  own  heart  and 
reasoned  to  the  world,  and  Jonathan  Edwards  in  the 
same  way  began  with  himself.  "  My  wickedness,"  he 
says,  "has  long  appeared  to  me  perfectly  ineffable  and, 
swallowing  up  all  thought  and  imagination,  like  an 
infinite  deluge  or  mountains  over  my  head.  I  know 
not  how  to  express  better  what  my  sins  appear  to  me 
to  be  than  by  heaping  infinite  on  infinite  and  multiplying 
infinite  by  infinite."  Here  is  no  Eliphaz  arguing  from 
misfortune  to  sinfulness ;  and  indeed  by  that  fine  it  is 
impossible'ever  to  arrive  at  evangelical  poverty  of  spirit. 

Passing  to  his  final  contention  here  the  speaker 
introduces  it  with  a  special  claim  to  attention.  Again 
it  is  what  '*he  has  seen"  he  will  declare,  what  indeed 
all  wise  men  have  seen  from  time  immemorial. 

"  /  will  inform  thee :  hear  me  ; 
And  what  I  have  seen  I  will  declare : 
Things  which  wise  men  have  told, 
From,  their  fathers,  and  have  not  hid. 
To  whom  alone  the  land  was  given. 
And  no  stranger  passed  in  their  midst" 

There  is  the  pride.  He  has  a  peculiar  inheritance  of 
unsophisticated  wisdom.     The  pure  Temanite  race  has 


XV.]  THE    TRADITION  OF  A   PURE  RACE.  197 

dwelt  always  in  the  same  land,  and  foreigners  have 
not  mixed  with  it.  With  it,  therefore,  is  a  religion  not 
perverted  by  alien  elements  or  the  adoption  of  sceptical 
ideas  from  passing  strangers.  The  plea  is  distinctively 
Arabic  and  may  be  illustrated  by  the  self-complacent 
dogmatism  of  the  Wahhabees  of  Ri'ad,  whom  Mr. 
Palgrave  found  enjoying  their  own  uncorrupted  ortho- 
doxy. "  In  central  Nejed  society  presents  an  element 
pervading  it  from  its  highest  to  its  lowest  grades.  Not 
only  as  a  Wahhabee  but  equally  as  a  Nejdean  the 
native  of 'Aared  and  Yemamah  differs,  and  that  widely, 
from  his  fellow-Arab  of  Shomer  and  Kaseem,  nay,  of 
Woshem  and  Sedeyr.  The  cause  of  this  difference 
is  much  more  ancient  than  the  epoch  of  the  great 
Wahhabee,  and  must  be  sought  first  and  foremost  in 
the  pedigree  itself.  The  descent  claimed  by  the  indi- 
genous Arabs  of  this  region  is  from  the  family  of  Tameen, 
a  name  peculiar  to  these  lands.  .  .  .  Now  Benoo- 
Tameem  have  been  in  all  ages  distinguished  from  other 
Arabs  by  strongly  drawn  lines  of  character,  the  object 
of  the  exaggerated  praise  and  of  the  biting  satire 
of  native  poets.  Good  or  bad,  these  characteristics, 
described  some  thousand  years  ago,  are  identical  with 
the  portrait  of  their  real  or  pretended  descendants.  .  .  . 
Simplicity  is  natural  to  the  men  of  'Aared  and  Yemamah, 
independent  of  Wahhabee  puritanism  and  the  vigour  of 
its  code."  { '*  Central  Arabia,"  pp.  272,  273.)  To  this 
people  Nejed  is  holy,  Damascus  through  which  Chris- 
tians and  other  infidels  go  is  a  lax  disreputable  place. 
They  maintain  a  strict  Mohammedanism  from  age  to  age. 
In  their  view,  as  in  that  of  Eliphaz,  the  land  belongs 
to  the  wise  people  who  have  the  heavenly  treasure  and 
do  not  entertain  strangers  as  guides  of  thought.  In- 
fallibility is  a  very  old  and  very  abiding  cult. 


\gii  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


Eliphaz  drags  back  his  hearers  to  the  penal  visita- 
tion of  the  wicked,  his  favourite  dogma.  Once  more 
it  is  affirmed  that  for  one  who  transgresses  the  law 
of  God  there  is  nothing  but  misery,  fear  and  pain. 
Though  he  has  a  great  following  he  lives  in  terror  of 
the  destroyer  ;  he  knows  that  calamity  will  one  day 
overtake  him,  and  from  it  there  will  be  no  deliverance. 
Then  he  will  have  to  wander  in  search  of  bread,  his 
eyes  perhaps  put  out  by  his  enemy.  So  trouble  and 
anguish  make  him  afraid  even  in  his  great  day.  There 
is  here  not  a  suggestion  that  conscience  troubles  him. 
His  whole  agitation  is  from  fear  of  pain  and  loss.  No 
single  touch  in  the  picture  gives  the  idea  that  this 
man  has  any  sense  of  sin. 

How  does  Eliphaz  distinguish  or  imagine  the 
Almighty  distinguishing  between  men  in  general, 
who  are  all  bad  and  offensive  in  their  badness,  and 
this  particular  ''  wicked  man  "  ?  Distinction  there 
must  be.  What  is  it  ?  One  must  assume,  for  the 
reasoner  is  no  fool,  that  the  settled  temper  and  habit 
of  a  life  are  meant.  Revolt  against  God,  proud  opposi- 
tion to  His  will  and  law,  these  are  the  wickedness. 
It  is  no  mere  stagnant  pool  of  corruption,  but  a  force 
running  against  the  Almighty.  Very  well :  Eliphaz 
has  not  only  made  a  true  distinction,  but  apparently 
stated  for  once  a  true  conclusion.  Such  a  man  will 
indeed  be  likely  to  suffer  for  his  arrogance  in  this  life, 
although  it  does  not  hold  that  he  will  be  haunted  by 
fears  of  coming  doom.  But  analysing  the  details  of 
the  wicked  Hfe  in  vers.  25-28,  we  find  incoherency. 
The  question  is  why  he  suffers  and  is  afraid. 

"  Because  he  stretched  out  his  hand  against  God, 
And  bade  defiance  to  the  Almighty  ; 
He  ran  upon  Him  with  a  neck 


XV.]  THE    TRADITION  OF  A    PURE  RACE.  199 

Up07t  the  thick  bosses  of  His  bucklers  ; 
Because  he  covered  his  face  with  his  fatness 
And  made  collops  of  fat  on  his  flanks  ; 
And  he  divelt  in  tabooed  cities, 
In  houses  which  no  man  ouglit  to  iiiJiabit, 
Destined  to  become  heaps.''' 

Eliphaz  has  narrowed  down  the  whole  contention, 
so  that  he  may  carry  it  triumphantly  and  bring  Job 
to  admit,  at  least  in  this  case,  the  law  of  sin  and 
retribution.  It  is  fair  to  suppose  that  he  is  not 
presenting  Job's  case,  but  an  argument,  rather,  in 
abstract  theology,  designed  to  strengthen  his  own 
general  position.  The  author,  however,  by  side  lights 
on  the  reasoning  shows  where  it  fails.  The  account 
of  calamity  and  judgment,  true  as  it  might  be  in  the 
main  of  God-defiant  lives  running  headlong  against  the 
laws  of  heaven  and  earth,  is  confused  by  the  other 
element  of  wickedness — '' Because  he  hath  covered  his 
face  with  his  fatness,"  etc.  The  recoil  of  a  refined 
man  of  pure  race  from  one  of  gross  sensual  appetite  is 
scarcely  a  fit  parallel  to  the  aversion  of  God  from  man 
stubbornly  and  insolently  rebellious.  Further,  the 
superstitious  belief  that  one  was  unpardonable  who 
made  his  dwelling  in  cities  under  the  curse  of  God 
(literally,  cities  cut  off  or  tabooed),  while  it  might  be 
sincerely  put  forward  by  Eliphaz,  made  another  flaw 
in  his  reasoning.  Any  one  in  constant  terror  of  judg- 
ment would  have  been  the  last  to  take  up  his  abode 
in  such  accursed  habitations.  The  argument  is  strong 
only  in  picturesque  assertion. 

The  latter  end  of  the  wicked  man  and  his  futile 
attempts  to  found  a  family  or  clan  are  presented  at  the 
close  of  the  address.  He  shall  not  become  rich ;  that 
felicity  is  reserved  for  the  servants  of  God.  No 
plentiful   produce   shall   weigh   down   the   branches  of 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


his  olives  and  vines,  nor  shall  he  ever  rid  himself  of 
misfortune.  As  by  a  flame  or  hot  breath  from  the 
mouth  of  God  his  harvest  and  himself  shall  be  carried 
away.  The  vanity  or  mischief  he  sows  shall  return  to 
him  in  vanity  or  trouble  ;  and  before  his  time,  while 
life  should  be  still  fresh,  the  full  measure  of  his  reward 
shall  be  paid  to  him.  The  branch  withered  and  dry, 
unripe  grapes  and  the  infertile  flowers  of  the  oHve 
falhng  to  the  ground  point  to  the  want  of  children  or 
their  early  death  ;  for  "  the  company  of  the  godless 
shall  be  barren."  The  tents  of  injustice  or  bribery, 
left  desolate,  shall  be  burned.  The  only  fruit  of  the 
doomed  life  shall  be  iniquity. 

One  hesitates  to  accuse  Eliphaz  of  inaccurac}-.  Yet 
the  shedding  of  the  petals  of  the  olive  is  not  in  itself  a 
sign  of  infertility ;  and  although  this  tree,  Hke  others, 
often  blossoms  w^ithout  producing  fruit,  yet  it  is  the 
constant  emblem  of  productiveness.  The  vine,  again, 
may  have  shed  its  unripe  grapes  in  Teman  ;  but 
usually  they  v/ither.  It  may  be  feared  that  Eliphaz 
has  fallen  into  the  popular  speaker's  trick  of  snatch- 
ing at  illustrations  from  ''  something  supposed  to  be 
science."  His  contention  is  partly  sound  in  its  founda- 
tion, but  fails  like  his  analogies  ;  and  the  controversy, 
when  he  leaves  off,  is  advanced  not  a  single  step. 


XIV. 

'MY   WITNESS   IN   HEAVEN' 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  xvi.,  xvii. 

IF  it  were  comforting  to  be  told  of  misery  and 
misfortune,  to  hear  the  doom  of  insolent  evil-doers 
described  again  and  again  in  varying  terms,  then  Job 
should  have' been  comforted.  But  his  friends  had  lost 
sight  of  their  errand,  and  he  had  to  recall  them  to  it. 

"/  have  heard  many  such  things  : 
Afflictive  comforters  are  ye  all. 
Shall  vain  words  have  an  end  ?  " 

He  would  have  them  consider  that  perpetual  harp- 
ing on  one  string  is  but  a  sober  accomplishment ! 
Returning  one  after  another  to  the  wicked  man,  the 
godless  sinner,  crafty,  fro  ward,  sensual,  overbearing, 
and  his  certain  fate  of  disaster  and  extinction,  they 
are  at  once  obstinately  ungracious  and  to  Job's  mind 
pitifully  inept.  He  is  indisposed  to  argue  afresh  w^ith 
them,  but  he  cannot  refrain  from  expressing  his  sorrow 
and  indeed  his  indignation  that  they  have  offered  him  a 
stone  for  bread.  Excusing  themselves  they  had  blamed 
him  for  his  indifference  to  the  "  consolations  of  God." 
All  he  had  been  aware  of  was  their  "joining  words 
together  "  against  him  with  much  shaking  of  the  head. 
Was  that  Divine  consolation  ?  Anything,  it  seemed, 
was  good  enough  for  him,  a  man  under  the  stroke  of 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


God.  Perhaps  he  is  a  Httle  unfair  to  his  comforters. 
They  cannot  drop  their  creed  in  order  to  assuage  his 
grief.  In  a  sense  it  would  have  been  easy  to  murmur 
soothing  inanities. 

"  One  writes  that  *  Other  friends  remain,' 
That  *  Loss  is  common  to  the  race  ' — 
And  common  is  the  commonplace, 
And  vacant  chaff  well  meant  for  grain. 

"  That  loss  is  common  would  not  make 
My  own  less  bitter,  rather  more  : 
Too  common  !     Never  morning  wore 
To  evening,  but  some  heart  did  break." 

Even  so  :  the  courteous  superficial  talk  of  men  who 
said,  Friend,  you  are  only  accidentally  afflicted  ;  there 
is  no  stroke  of  God  in  this  :  wait  a  little  till  the 
shadows  pass,  and  meanwhile  let  us  cheer  you  by 
stories  of  old  times  : — such  talk  would  have  served  Job 
even  less  than  the  serious  attempt  of  the  friends  to  settle 
the  problem.  It  is  therefore  with  somewhat  inconsider- 
ate irony  he  blames  them  for  not  giving  what,  if  they 
had  offered  it,  he  would  have  rejected  with  scorn. 

"/  also  could  speak  like  you  ; 
If  your  soul  were  in  my  souPs  stead, 
I  could  join  words  together  against  you, 
And  shake  my  head  at  you  ; 
I  could  strengthen  you  with  my  mouth, 
And  the  solace  of  my  lips  shoidd  assuage  your  grief y 

The  passage  is  throughout  ironical.  No  change  of 
tone  occurs  in  verse  5,  as  the  opening  word  But  in 
the  English  version  is  intended  to  imply.  Job  means, 
of  course,  that  such  consolation  as  they  were  offering 
he  never  would  have  offered  them.  It  would  be  easy, 
but  abhorrent. 

So  far  in  sad  sarcasm ;  and  then,  the  sense  of  deso- 


xvi.,  xvii.]  ''MY  WITNESS  IN  HEAVEN r  203 

lation  falling  too  heavily  on  his  mind  for  banter  or 
remonstrance,  he  returns  to  his  complaint.  What  is 
he  among  men  ?  What  is  he  in  himself?  What  is 
he  before  God  ?  Alone,  stricken,  the  object  of  fierce 
assault  and  galling  reproach.  After  a  pause  of  sorrow- 
ful thought  he  resumes  the  attempt  to  express  his  woes, 
a  final  protest  before  his  lips  are  silent  in  death.  He 
cannot  hope  that  speaking  will  relieve  his  sorrow  or 
mitigate  his  pain.     He  would  prefer  to  bear  on 

"  In  all  the  silent  manliness  of  grief." 

But  as  yet  the  appeal  he  has  made  to  God  remains 
unanswered,  for  aught  he  knows  unheard.  It  appears 
therefore  his  duty  to  his  own  reputation  and  his  faith 
that  he  endeavour  yet  again  to  break  the  obstinate 
doubts  of  his  integrity  which  still  estrange  from  him 
those  who  were  his  friends.  He  uses  indeed  language 
that  will  not  commend  his  case  but  tend  to  confirm 
every  suspicion.  Were  he  wise  in  the  world's  way 
he  would  refrain  from  repeating  his  complaint  against 
God.  Rather  would  he  speak  of  his  misery  as  a  simple 
fact  of  experience  and  strive  to  argue  himself  into  sub- 
mission. This  line  he  has  not  taken  and  never  takes. 
It  is  present  to  his  own  mind  that  the  hand  of  God  is 
against  him.  Whether  men  will  join  him  by-and-by 
in  an  appeal  from  God  to  God  he  cannot  tell.  But 
once  more  all  that  he  sees  or  seems  to  see  he  will 
declare.  Every  step  may  bring  him  into  more  painful 
isolation,  yet  he  will  proclaim  his  wrong. 

"  Certainly,  now,  He  hath  wearied  me  out. 
Thou  hast  made  desolate  my  company  ; 
Thou  hast  taken  hold  of  me, 
And  it  is  a  witness  against  me  ; 
And  my  leanness  riseth  up  against  me 
Bearing  witness  to  niy  face.'' 


204  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


He  is  exhausted  ;  he  has  come  to  the  last  stage. 
The  circle  of  his  family  and  friends  in  which  he  once 
stood  enjoying  the  love  and  esteem  of  all — where  is  it 
now"  ?  That  hold  of  life  is  gone.  Then,  as  if  in  sheer 
malice,  God  has  plucked  health  from  him,  and  doing 
so,  left  a  charge  of  unworthiness.  By  the  sore  disease 
the  Divine  hand  grasps  him,  keeps  him  down.  The 
emaciation  of  his  body  bears  witness  against  him  as 
an  object  of  wrath.  Yes  ;  God  is  his  enemy,  and  how 
terrible  an  enemy  !  He  is  like  a  savage  lion  that  tears 
with  his  teeth  and  glares  as  if  in  act  to  devour.  With 
God,  men  also,  in  their  degree,  persecute  and  assail 
him.  People  from  the  city  have  come  out  to  gaze  upon 
him.  Word  has  gone  round  that  he  is  being  crushed 
by  the  Almighty  for  proud  defiance  and  blasphemy. 
Men  who  once  trembled  before  him  have  smitten  him 
upon  the  cheek  reproachfully.  They  gather  in  groups 
to  jeer  at  him.     He  is  delivered  into  their  hands. 

But  it  is  God,  not  men,  of  whose  strange  work  he 
has  most  bitterly  to  speak.  Words  almost  fail  him 
to  express  what  his  Almighty  Foe  has  done. 

"  /  was  at  ease,  and  He  brake  me  asunder  ; 
Yea  he  hath  taken  me  by  the  neck 
And  dashed  me  to  pieces  : 
He  hath  also  set  me  as  His  butt, 
His  arrows  compass  me  round  about. 
He  cleaveth  my  reins  asunder  and  spareth  not. 
He  poureth  my  gall  on  the  ground  ; 
He  breaketh  me  with  breach  upon  breach, 
He  runneth  upon  ^ne  like  a  giantT 

Figure  after  figure  expresses  the  sense  of  persecution 
by  one  full  of  resource  who  cannot  be  resisted.  Job 
declares  himself  to  be  physically  bruised  and  broken. 
The  stings  and  sores  of  his  disease  are  like  arrows 
shot  from  every  side  that  rankle  in  his  flesh.     He  is 


xvi.,  xvii.]  ''MY  WITNESS  IN  HEAVENS  205 

like  a  fortress  beleaguered  and  stormed  by  some  irre- 
sistible enemy.  His  strength  humbled  to  the  dust,  his 
eyes  foul  with  weeping,  the  eyelids  swollen  so  that 
he  cannot  see,  he  lies  abased  and  helpless,  stricken 
to  the  very  heart.  But  not  in  the  chastened  mood 
of  one  who  has  done  evil  and'  is  now  brought  to 
contrite  submission.  That  is  as  far  from  him  as  ever. 
The  whole  account  is  of  persecution,  undeserved.  He 
suffers,  but  protests  still  that  there  is  no  violence  in 
his  hands,  also  his  prayer  is  pure.  Let  neither  God 
nor  man  think  he  is  concealing  sin  and  making  appeal 
craftily.     Sincere  he  is  in  every  word. 

At  this  point,  where  Job's  impassioned  language 
might  be  expected  to  lead  to  a  fresh  outburst  against 
heaven  and  earth,  one  of  the  most  dramatic  turns  in 
the  thought  of  the  sufferer  brings  it  suddenly  to  a 
minor  harmony  with  the  creation  and  the  Creator. 
His  excitement  is  intense.  Spiritual  eagerness  ap- 
proaches the  highest  point.  He  invokes  the  earth 
to  help  him  and  the  mountain  echoes.  He  protests 
that  his  claim  of  integrity  has  its  witness  and  must 
be  acknowledged. 

For  this  new  and  most  pathetic  effort  to  reach  a 
benignant  fidelity  in  God  which  all  his  cries  have  not 
yet  stirred,  the  former  speeches  have  made  preparation. 
Rising  from  the  thought  that  it  was  all  one  to  God 
whether  he  lived  or  died  since  the  perfect  and  the 
wicked  are  alike  destroyed,  bewailing  the  want  of 
a  daysman  between  him  and  the  Most  High,  Job  in 
the  tenth  chapter  touched  the  thought  that  his  Maker 
could  not  despise  the  work  of  His  own  hands.  Again, 
in  chapter  xiv.,  the  possibility  of  redemption  from 
Sheol   gladdened   him   for   a  little.       Now,    under   the 


2o6  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


shadow  of  imminent  death,  he  abandons  the  hope  of 
deHverance  from  the  under-world.  Immediately,  if  at 
all,  his  vindication  must  come.  And  it  exists,  written 
on  the  breast  of  earth,  open  to  the  heavens,  some- 
where in  clear  words  before  the  Highest.  Not  vainly 
did  the  speaker  in  his  days  of  past  felicity  serve  God 
with  all  his  heart.  The  God  he  then  worshipped 
heard  his  prayers,  accepted  his  offerings,  made  him 
glad  with  a  friendship  that  was  no  empty  dream. 
Somewhere  his  Divine  Friend  lives  still,  observes  still 
his  tears  and  agonies  and  cries.  Those  enemies  about 
him  taunting  him  with  sins  he  never  committed,  this 
horrible  malady  bearing  him  down  into  death  ; — God 
knows  of  these,  knows  them  to  be  cruel  and  undeserved. 
He  cries  to  that  God,  Eloah  of  the  Elohim,  Higher  than 
the  highest. 

"  O  Earth,  cover  not  my  blood, 
And  let  my  cry  have  no  resting-place  ! 
Even  now,  lo  !  my  witness  is  in  heaven. 
And  He  that  voucheth  for  me  is  on  high. 
My  friends  scorn  me  : 
Mine  eye  sheds  tears  unto  God — 
That  he  would  right  a  man  against  God, 
And  a  son  of  man  against  his  friend.''^ 

Now — in  the  present  stage  of  being,  before  those  years 
expire  that  lead  him  to  the  grave — Job  entreats  the 
vindication  which  exists  in  the  records  of  heaven.  As 
a  son  of  man  he  pleads,  not  as  one  who  has  any 
peculiar  claim,  but  simply  as  a  creature  of  the  Almighty; 
and  he  pleads  for  the  first  time  with  tears.  The  fact 
that  earth,  too,  is  besought  to  help  him  must  not  be 
overlooked.  There  is  a  touch  of  wide  and  wistful 
emotion,  a  sense  that  Eloah  must  regard  the  witness 
of  His  world.     The  thought  has  its  colour  from  a  very 


xvi.,  xvii.]  ''MY   WITNESS  IN  HEAVEN."  207 

old  feeling  ;  it  takes  us  back  to  primaeval  faith,  and  the 
dumb  longing  before  faith. 

Is  there  in  any  sense  a  deeper  depth  in  the  faith- 
fulness of  God,  a  higher  heaven,  more  difficult  to 
penetrate,  of  Divine  benignity  ?  Job  is  making  a  bold 
effort  to  break  that  barrier  we  have  already  found  to 
exist  in  Hebrev^  thought  between  God  as  revealed  by 
nature  and  providence  and  God  as  vindicator  of  the 
individual  life.  The  man  has  that  in  his  own  heart 
which  vouches  for  his  life,  though  calamity  and  disease 
impeach  him.  And  in  the  heart  of  God  also  there 
must  be  a  witness  to  His  faithful  servant,  although, 
meanwhile,  something  interferes  with  the  testimony 
God  could  bear.  Job's  appeal  is  to  the  sun  beyond  the 
rolling  clouds  to  shine.  It  is  there ;  God  is  faithful  and 
true.  It  will  shine.  But  let  it  shine  now !  Human 
life  is  brief  and  delay  will  be  disastrous.  Pathetic 
cry — a  struggle  against  what  in  ordinary  life  is  the 
inexorable.  How  many  have  gone  the  way  whence 
they  shall  not  return,  unheard  apparently,  un vindicated, 
hidden  in  calumny  and  shame  !  And  yet  Job  was 
right.  The  Maker  has  regard  to  the  work  of  His 
hands. 

The  philosophy  of  Job's  appeal  is  this,  that  beneath 
all  seeming  discord  there  is  one  clear  note.  The 
universe  is  one  and  belongs  to  One,  from  the  highest 
heaven  to  the  deepest  pit.  Nature,  providence, — what 
are  they  but  the  veil  behind  which  the  One  Supreme 
is  hidden,  the  veil  God's  own  hands  have  wrought  ? 
We  see  the  Divine  in  the  folds  of  the  veil,  the  mar- 
vellous pictures  of  the  arras.  Yet  behind  is  He  who 
weaves  the  changing  forms,  iridescent  with  colours 
of  heaven,  dark  with  unutterable  mystery.  Man  is 
now  in  the  shadow  of  the  veil,  now  in  the  light  of  it, 


2o8  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

self-pit3'ing,  exultant,  in  despair,  in  ecstasy.  He  would 
pass  the  barrier.  It  will  not  yield  at  his  will.  It  is 
no  veil  now,  but  a  wall  of  adamant.  Yet  faith  on  this 
side  answers  to  truth  be3'ond  ;  of  this  the  soul  is 
assured.  The  cry  is  for  God  to  unravel  the  enigmas 
of  His  own  providence,  to  unfold  the  principle  of  His 
discipline,  to  make  clear  what  is  perplexing  to  the  mind 
and  conscience  of  His  thinking,  suffering  creature. 
None  but  He  who  weaves  the  web  can  withdraw  it, 
and  let  the  light  of  eternity  shine  on  the  tangles  of 
time.  From  God  the  Concealer  to  God  the  Revealer, 
from  God  who  hides  Himself  to  God  who  is  Light,  in 
whom  is  no  darkness  at  all,  we  appeal.  To  pray  on 
— that  is  man's  high  privilege,  man's  spiritual  life. 

So  the  passage  we  have  read  is  a  splendid  utterance 
of  the  wayworn  travelling  soul  conscious  of  sublime 
possibilities, — shall  we  not  say,  certainties  ?  Job  is 
God-inspired  in  his  cry,  not  profane,  not  mad,  but 
prophetic.  For  God  is  a  bold  dealer  with  men,  and  He 
likes  bold  sons.  The  impeachment  we  almiost  shuddered 
to  hear  is  not  abominable  to  Him  because  it  is  the  truth 
of  a  soul.  The  claim  that  God  is  man's  witness  is  the 
true  courage  of  faith  :  it  is  sincere,  and  it  is  justified. 

The  demand  for  immediate  vindication  still  urged  is 
inseparable  from  the  circumstances. 

"  For  when  a  few  years  are  come 
I  shall  go  the  way  whence  I  shall  not  return. 
My  spirit  is  consumed,  my  days  extinct ; 
The  grave  is  ready  for  me. 
Surely  there  are  mockeries  with  me 
And  mine  eyes  lodgeth  in  their  provocation. 
Provide  a  pledge  now  ;  be  surety  for  me  with  Thyself. 
Who  is  there  that  will  strike  hands  with  me  ?" 

Moving  towards  the  under-world,  the  fire  of  his  spirit 


xvi.,xvii.]  ''MY  WITNESS  IN  HEAVEN"  209 


burning  low  because  of  his  disease,  his  body  preparing 
its  own  grave,  the  bystanders  flouting  him  with 
mockeries  under  a  sense  of  which  his  eyes  remain 
closed  in  weary  endurance,  he  has  need  for  one  to 
undertake  for  him,  to  give  him  a  pledge  of  redemption. 
But  who  is  there  excepting  God  to  whom  he  can  appeal  ? 
What  other  friend  is  left  ?  Who  else  would  be  surety 
for  one  so  forlorn  ?  Against  disease  and  fate,  against 
the  seeming  wreck  of  hope  and  life,  will  not  God  Himself 
stand  up  for  His  servant  ?  As  for  the  men  his  friends, 
his  enemies,  the  Divine  suretyship  for  Job  will  recoil 
upon  them  and  their  cruel  taunts.  Their  hearts  are 
"  hid  from  understanding,"  unable  to  grasp  the  truth 
of  the  case;  "Therefore  Thou  shalt  not  exalt  them" — 
that  is,  Thou  shalt  bring  them  low.  Yes,  when  God 
redeems  His  pledge,  declares  openly  that  He  has 
undertaken  for  His  servant,  the  proverb  shall  be  ful- 
filled— "  He  that  giveth  his  fellows  for  a  prey,  even  the 
eyes  of  his  children  shall  fail."  It  is  a  proverb  of  the 
old  way  of  thinking  and  carries  a  kind  of  imprecation. 
Job  forgets  himself  in  using  it.  Yet  how,  otherwise, 
is  the  justice  of  God  to  be  invoked  against  those 
who  pervert  judgment  and  will  not  receive  the  sincere 
defence  of  a  dying  man  ? 

"/  rtm  even  made  a  byeword  of  tJie  populace  ; 
I  am  becojne  one  in  whose  face  they  spit  : 
Mine  eye  also  fails  by  reason  of  sorrow" 

This  is  apparently  parenthetical — and  then  Job  returns 
to  the  result  of  the  intervention  of  his  Divine  Friend. 
One  reason  why  God  should  become  his  surety  is  the 
pitiable  state  he  is  in.  But  another  reason  is  the  new 
impetus  that  will  be  given  to  religion,  the  awakening  of 
good  men  out  of  their  despondency,   the   reassurance 

14 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


of  those  who  are  pure  in  heart,  the  growth  of  spiritual 
strength  in  the  faithful  and  true.  A  fresh  light  thrown 
on  providence  shall  indeed  startle  and  revive  the  world. 

"  Upright  men  shall  be  amazed  at  this, 
And  the  innocent  shall  rouse  himself  against  the  godless. 
And  the  righteous  shall  keep  his  way, 
And  he  that  hath  clean  hands  wax  stronger  and  stronger.^'' 

With  this  hope,  that  his  life  is  to  be  rescued  from  dark- 
ness and  the  faith  of  the  good  re-established  by  the  ful- 
filment of  God's  suretyship.  Job  comforts  himself  for  a 
little — but  only  for  a  little,  a  moment  of  strength,  during 
which  he  has  courage  to  dismiss  his  friends : — - 

^^  But  as  for  you  all,  turn  ye,  and  go  ; 
For  I  shall  not  find  a  wise  nian  among  you." 

They  have  forfeited  all  claim  to  his  attention.  Their 
continued  discussion  of  the  ways  of  God  will  only 
aggravate  his  pain.  Let  them  take  their  departure  then 
and  leave  him  in  peace. 

The  final  passage  of  the  speech  referring  to  a  hope 
present  to  Job's  mind  has  been  variously  interpreted. 
It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  reference  is  to  the  pro- 
mise held  out  by  the  friends  that  repentance  will  bring 
him  relief  from  trouble  and  new  prosperity.  But  this 
is  long  ago  dismissed.  It  seems  clear  that  my  hope,  an 
expression  twice  used,  cannot  refer  to  one  pressed  upon 
Job  but  never  accepted.  It  must  denote  either  the  hope 
that  God  would  after  Job's  death  lay  aside  His  anger 
and  forgive,  or  the  hope  that  God  would  strike  hands 
with  him  and  undertake  his  case  against  all  adverse 
forces  and  circumstances.  If  this  be  the  meaning,  the 
course  of  thought  in  the  last  strophe,  from  verse  ii 
onward,  is  the  following, — Life  is  running  to  a  low  ebb 
with  me,   all  I  had  once  in  my  heart  to  do  is  arrested, 


xvi.,xvii.]  ''MY  WITNESS  IN  HEAVEN:'  211 

brought  to  an  end ;  so  gloomy  are  my  thoughts  that 
they  set  night  for  day,  the  hght  is  near  unto  darkness. 
If  I  wait  till  death  come  and  Sheol  be  my  habi- 
tation and  my  body  is  given  to  corruption,  where 
then  shall  my  hope  of  vindication  be  ?  As  for  the 
fulfilment  of  my  trust  in  God,  who  shall  see  it  ?  The 
effort  once  made  to  maintain  hope  even  in  the  face  of 
death  is  not  forgotten.  But  he  questions  now  whether 
it  has  the  least  ground  in  fact.  The  sense  of  bodily 
decay  masters  his  brave  prevision  of  a  deliverance  from 
Sheol.  His  mind  needs  yet  another  strain  put  upon  it 
before  it  shall  rise  to  the  magnificent  assertion — With- 
out my  flesh  I  shall  see  God.  The  tides  of  trust  ebb 
and  flow.  There  is  here  a  low  ebb.  The  next  advance 
will  mark  the  springtide  of  resolute  belief. 

"  If  I  wait  till  Sheol  is  my  house  ; 
Till  I  have  spread  my  couch  in  darkness  : 
If  I  shall  have  said  to  corruption,  My  father  art  thou, 
To  the  worm,  My  mother  and  my  sister — 
Where  then  were  my  hope  ? 
As  Jor  my  hope,  who  shall  see  it  ?■ 
It  shall  go  down  to  the  bars  of  Sheol, 
When  once  there  is  rest  in  the  dust" 

How  strenuous  is  the  thought  that  has  to  fight  with 
the  grave  and  corruption  !  The  body  in  its  emaciation 
and  decay,  doomed  to  be  the  prey  of  worms,  appears 
to  drag  with  it  into  the  nether  darkness  the  eager  life 
of  the  spirit.  Those  who  have  the  Christian  outlook 
to  another  life  may  measure  by  the  oppression  Job  has 
to  endure  the  value  of  that  revelation  of  immortality 
which  is  the  gift  of  Christ. 

Not  in  error,  not  in  unbehef,  did  a  man  Hke  Job  fight 
with  grim  death,  strive  to  keep  it  at  bay  till  his 
character  was  cleared.  There  was  no  acknowledged 
doctrine   of  the    future    to    found    upon.       Of    sheer 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


necessity  each  burdened  soul  had  to  seek  its  own 
Apocalypse.  He  who  had  suffered  with  bleeding  heart 
a  lifelong  sacrifice,  he  who  had  striven  to  free  his 
fellow-slaves  and  sank  at  last  overborne  by  tyrannous 
power,  the  brave  defeated,  the  good  betrayed,  those 
who  sought  through  heathen  beliefs  and  those  who 
found  in  revealed  religion  the  promises  of  God — all 
alike  stood  in  sorrowful  ignorance  before  inexorable 
death,  beheld  the  shadows  of  the  under-world  and 
singly  battled  for  hope  amidst  the  deepening  gloom. 
The  sense  of  the  overwhelming  disaster  of  death  to 
one  v;hose  life  and  religion  are  scornfull}'  condemned 
is  not  ascribed  to  Job  as  a  peculiar  trial,  rarely  ming- 
ling with  human  experience.  The  writer  of  the  book 
has  himself  felt  it  and  has  seen  the  shadow  of  it  on 
many  a  face.  "  Where,"  as  one  asks,  '*  were  the  tears 
of  God  as  He  thrust  back  into 'eternal  stillness  the 
hands  stretched  out  to  Him  in  dying  faith  ?  " 

There  was  a  religion  which  gave  large  and  elaborate 
answer  to  the  questions  of  mortality.  The  wide  intelli- 
gence of  the  author  of  Job  can  hardly  have  missed 
the  creed  and  ceremonial  of  Egypt ;  he  cannot  have 
failed  to  remember  its  "  Book  of  the  Dead."  His  own 
work,  throughout,  is  at  once  a  parallel  and  a  contrast 
to  that  old  vision  of  future  life  and  Divine  judgment. 
It  has  been  affirmed  that  some  of  the  forms  of  expres- 
sion, especially  in  the  nineteenth  chapter,  have  their 
source  in  the  Egyptian  scripture,  and  that  the  ''  Book 
of  the  Dead "  is  full  of  spiritual  aspirations  which 
give  it  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  Book  of  Job. 
Now,  undoubtedly,  the  correspondence  is  remarkable 
and  will  bear  examination.  The  soul  comes  before 
Osiris,  who  holds  the  shepherd's  crook  and  the  penal 
scourge.     Thoth  (or  Logos)  breathes  new  spirit    into 


i.]  "il/r  WITNESS  IN  HEAVEN."  213 


the  embalmed  body,  and  the  dead  pleads  for  himself 
before  the  assessors — "  Hail  to   thee,    great    Lord    of 
Justice.     1  arrive  near  thee.     I  am  one  of  those  con- 
secrated  to   thee   on   the  earth.     I   reach   the   land  of 
eternity.     I  rejoin  the  eternal  country.     Living  is  he 
who    dwelleth    in    darkness  ;    all    his   grandeurs  live." 
The  dead  is  in  fact  not  dead,  he  is  recreated  ;  tJie  mouth 
of  no   wonn    sJiall  devour  him.     At   the  close   of  the 
"Book    of    the    Dead"    it    is    written,    the    departed 
*'  shall  be  among  the  gods ;  his  flesh  and  bones  shall 
be  healthy  as  one  who  is  not  dead.      He  shall  shine 
as  a  star  for  ever  and  ever.     He  seeth  God  with  his 
flesh."     The  defence  of  the  soul  in  claiming  beatitude 
is  this  :    "  I  have  committed  no  revenge  in  act  or  in 
heart,  no  excesses  in  love.     I  have  injured  no  one  with 
lies.     I  have  driven  away  no  beggars,   committed  no 
treacheries,    caused    no    tears.       I     have    not    taken 
another's  property,  nor  ruined  another,  nor  destroyed 
the  laws  of  righteousness.     I   have  not  aroused  con- 
tests, nor   neglected  the  Creator  of  m}^  soul.     I  have 
not  disturbed  the  joy  of  others.     I  have  not  passed  by 
the    oppressed,    sinning    against    my    Creator,    or   the 
Lord,  or  the  heavenly  powers.  ...   I  am  pure,  pure."* 
There    are  many  evident  resemblances  which   have 
been  already  studied  and  would   repay  further  atten- 
tion ;  but  the  questions  occur,  how  far  the  author  of  the 
Book  of  Job  refused  Egyptian  influences,  and  why,  in 
the  face  of  a  solution  of  his  problem  apparently  thrust 
upon   him  with  the  authority  of  ages,  he  yet  exerted 
himself  to    find    a    solution    of    his    own,    meanwhile 
throwing   his   hero    into    the    hopelessness    of  one    to 
whom  death  as  a  physical  fact  is  final,  compelled   to 

*  See  Renouf's  Hibbert  Lecture,  also  "  The  Unknown  God,"  by  C. 
Loring  Brace. 


214  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


-forego  the  expectation  of  a  daysman  who  should 
affirm  his  righteousness  before  the  Lord  of  all.  The 
^'  Book  of  the  Dead  "  was,  for  one  thing,  identified 
with  polytheism,  with  idolatry  and  a  priestly  system  ; 
and  a  thinker  whose  belief  was  entirely  monotheistic, 
whose  mind  turned  decisively  from  ritual,  whose 
interests  were  widely  humane,  was  not  likely  to  accept 
as  a  revelation  the  promises  of  Egyptian  priests  to 
their  aristocratic  patrons,  or  to  seek  light  from  the 
mysteries  of  Isis  and  Osiris.  Throughout  his  book 
our  author  is  advancing  to  a  conclusion  altogether 
apart  from  the  ideas  of  Egyptian  faith  regarding  the 
trust  of  the  soul.  But  chiefly  his  mind  seems  to  have 
been  repelled  by  the  excessive  care  given  to  the  dead 
body,  with  the  consequent  materiafising  of  religion. 
Life  to  him  meant  so  much  that  he  needed  a  far  more 
spiritual  basis  for  its  continuance  than  could  be 
found  in  the  preservation  of  the  w^orn-out  frame. 
With  rare  and  unsurpassed  endeavour  he  was  straining 
beyond  time  and  sense  after  a  vision  of  life  in  the 
union  of  man's  spirit  with  its  Maker,  and  that  Divine 
constancy  in  which  alone  faith  could  have  acceptance 
and  repose.  No  thought  of  maintaining  himself  in 
existence  by  having  his  body  embalmed  is  ever  ex- 
pressed by  Job.  The  author  seems  to  scorn  that 
childish  dream  of  continuance.  Death  means  decay, 
corruption.  This  doom  passed  on  the  body  the 
stricken  life  must  endure,  and  the  soul  must  stay  itself 
upon  the  righteousness  and  grace  of  God. 


XV. 

A    SCHEME    OF    JVORLD-RULE. 
BiLDAD  SPEAKS.     Chap.  xviii. 

COMPOSED  in  the  orderly  parallelism  of  the 
finished  juashal,  this  speech  of  Bildad  stands  out 
in  its  strength  and  subtlety  and,  no  less,  in  its  cruel 
rigour  quite  distinct  among  those  addressed  to  Job. 
It  is  the  most  trenchant  attack  the  sufferer  has  to 
bear.  The  law  of  retribution  is  stated  in  a  hard 
collected  tone  which  seems  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt. 
The  force  that  overbears  and  kills  is  presented  rather 
as  fate  or  destiny  than  as  moral  government.  No 
attempt  is  made  to  describe  the  character  of  the  man 
on  whom  punishment  falls.  We  hear  nothing  of  proud 
defiance  or  the  crime  of  settling  in  habitations  under 
the  Divine  curse.  Bildad  ventures  no  definitions  that 
may  not  fit  Job's  case.  He  labels  a  man  godless,  and 
then,  with  a  dogged  relish,  follows  his  entanglement  in 
the  net  of  disaster.  All  he  says  is  general,  abstract ; 
nevertheless,  the  whole  of  it  is  calculated  to  pierce  the 
armour  of  Job's  supposed  presumption.  It  is  not  to 
be  borne  longer  that  against  all  wisdom  and  certainty 
this  man,  plainly  set  among  the  objects  of  wrath,  should 
go  on  defending  himself  as  if  the  judgment  of  men  and 
God  went  for  nothing. 

With    singular    inconsistency    the   wicked    man    is 
215 


2i6  THE\  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

spoken  of  as  one  who  for  some  time  prospers  in  the 
world.  He  has  a  settlement  from  which  he  is  ejected, 
a  family  that  perishes,  a  name  of  some  repute  which  he 
loses.  Bildad  begins  by  admitting  what  he  afterwards 
denies,  that  a  man  of  evil  life  may  have  success.  It  is 
indeed  only  for  a  time,  and  perhaps 'the  idea  is  that  he 
becom.es  wicked  as  he  becomes  rich  and  strong.  Yet 
if  the  effect  of  prosperity  is  to  make  a  man  proud  and 
cruel  and  so  bring  him  at  once  into  snares  and  pitfalls 
according  to  a  rigorous  natural  law — how  then  can 
worldly  success  be  the  reward  of  virtue  ?  Bildad  is 
nearer  the  mark  with  description  than  with  reasoning. 
It  is  as  though  he  said  to  Job,  Doubtless  you  were  a 
good  man  once ;  you  were  my  friend  and  a  servant  of 
God  ;  but  I  very  much  fear  that  prosperity  has  done 
you  harm.  It  is  clear  that,  as  a  godless  man,  you  are 
now  driven  from  light  into  darkness,  that  fear  and 
death  wait  for  you.  The  speaker  does  not  see  that  he 
is  overturning  his  own  scheme  of  world-rule. 

There  is  bitterness  here,  the. personal  feeling  of  one 
who  has  a  view  to  enforce.  Does  the  man  before  him 
think  he  is  of  such  account  that  the  Almighty  will  inter- 
vene to  become  surety  for  him  and  justify  his  self-right- 
eousness ?  It  is  necessary  that  Job  shall  not  even  seem 
to  get  the  best  of  the  argument.  No  bystander  shall 
say  his  novel  heresies  appear  to  have  a  colour  of  truth. 
The  speaker  is  accordingly  very  unlike  what  he  was  in 
his  first  address.  The  show  of  politeness  and  friend- 
ship is  laid  aside.  We  see  the  temper  of  a  mind  fed 
on  traditional  views  of  truth,  bound  in  the  fetters  of 
self-satisfied  incompetence.  In  his  admirable  expo- 
sition of  this  part  of  the  book  Dr.  Cox  cites  various 
Arabic  proverbs  of  long  standing  which  are  embodied, 
one  v/ay  or   other,  in    Bildad's    speech.     It  is  a  cold 


xviii.]  A  ^SCIIEME    OF   WORLD-RULE.  217 

creed  which  builds  on  this  wisdom  of  the  world.  He 
who  can  use  grim  sayings  against  others  is  apt  to  think 
himself  superior  to  their  frailties,  in  no  danger  of  the 
penalties  he  threatens.  And  the  speech  of  Bildad  is 
irritating  just  because  everything  is  omitted  which 
might  give  a  hinge  or  loop  to  Job's  criticism. 

Nowhere  is  the  skill  of  the  author  better  shown  than 
in  making  these  protagonists  of  Job  say  false  things 
plausibly  and  effectively.  His  resources  are  marvellous. 
After  the  first  circle  of  speeches  the  lines  of  opposition 
to  Job  marked  out  by  the  tenor  of  the  controversy 
might  seem  to  admit  no  more  or  very  little  fresh  argu- 
ment. Yet  this  address  is  as  graphic  and  picturesque 
as  those  before  it.  The  full  strength  of  the  opposition 
is  thrown  into  those  sentences  piling  threat  on  threat 
with  such  apparent  truth.  The  reason  is  that  the  crisis 
approaches.  By  Bildad's  attack  the  sufferer  is  to  be 
roused  to  his  loftiest  effort, — that  prophetic  word  which 
is  in  one  sense  the  raison  d'etre  of  the  book.  One 
may  say  the  work  done  here  is  for  all  time.  The 
manifesto  of  humanity  against  rabbinism,  of  the  plain 
man's  faith  against  hard  theology,  is  set  beside  the 
most  specious  arguments  for  a  rule  dividing  men  into 
good  and  bad,  simply  as  they  appear  to  be  happy  or 
unfortunate. 

Bildad  opens  the  attack  by  charging  Job  with  hunt- 
ing for  words— an  accusation  of  a  general  kind  appa- 
rently referring  to  the  strong  expressions  he  had  used 
in  describing  his  sufferings  at  the  hand  of  God  and 
from  the  criticism  of  men.  He  then  calls  Job  to 
understand  his  own  errors,  that  he  may  be  in  a  position 
to  receive  the  truth.  Perverting  and  exaggerating  the 
language  of  Job,  he  demands  why  the  friends  should  be 
counted  as  beasts  and  unclean,  and  why  they  should 


2i8  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


be  SO  branded  by  a  man  who  was  in  revolt  against 
providence. 

"  Why  are  we  counted  as  beasts, 
As  imclean  even  in  your  sight  ? 
Thou  that  tearest  thyself  in  thine  anger — 
For  thy  sake  shall  the  earth  be  forsaken, 
And  the  rock  be  moved  from  its  place  ?  " 

Ewald's  interpretation  here  brings  out  the  force  of 
the  questions.  ''  Does  this  madman  who  complained 
that  God's  wrath  tore  him,  but  who,  on  the  contrary, 
sufficiently  betrays  his  own  bad  conscience  by  tearing 
himself  in  his  anger,  really  demand  that  on  his  account, 
that  he  may  be  justified,  the  earth  shall  be  made  deso- 
late (since  really,  if  God  Himself  should  pervert  justice, 
order,  and  peace,  the  blessings  of  the  happy  occupation 
of  the  earth  could  not  subsist)  ?  Does  he  also  hope  that 
what  is  firmest,  the  Divine  order  of  the  world,  should 
be  removed  from  its  place  ?  Oh,  the  fool,  who  in  his 
own  perversity  and  confusion  rebels  against  the  ever- 
lasting order  of  the  universe  ! "  All  is  settled  from 
time  immemorial  by  the  laws  of  providence.  Without 
more  discussion  Bildad  reaffirms  what  the  unchange- 
able decree,  as  he  knows  it,  certainly  is. 

"  Nevertheless  the  light  of  the  wicked  shall  be  put  out, 
And  the  gleam  of  his  fire  shall  not  shine. 
The  light  shall  fade  in  his  tent, 
And  his  lamp  over  him  shall  be  put  out. 
The  steps  of  his  strength  shall  be  straitened. 
And  his  own  counsel  shall  cast  him  down. 
For  into  a  net  his  own  feet  urge  him, 
And  he  walketh  over  the  toils. 
A  snare  seizeth  him  by  the  heel, 
And  a  noose  holdeth  him  fast : 
In  the  ground  its  loop  is  hidden. 
And  its  mesh  in  the path.'^ 

By  reiteration,  by  a  play  on  words  the   fact  as   it 


xviii.J  A   SCHEME   OF   WORLD-RULE.  219 

appears  to  Bildad  is  made  very  clear — that  for  the 
wicked  man  the  world  is  full  of  perils,  deliberately 
prepared  as  snares  for  wild  animals  are  set  by  the 
hunter.  The  general  proposition  is  that  the  Hght  of 
his  prosperity  is  an  accident.  It  shall  soon  be  put  out 
and  his  home  be  given  to  desolation.  This  comes  to 
pass  first  by  a  restraint  put  on  his  movements.  The 
sense  of  some  inimical  power  observing  him,  pursuing 
him,  compels  him  to  move  carefully  and  no  longer  with 
the  free  stride  of  security.  Then  in  the  narrow  range 
to  which  he  is  confined  he  is  caught  again  and  again 
by  the  snares  and  meshes  set  for  him  by  invisible  hands. 
His  best  devices  for  his  own  safety  bring  him  into  peril. 
In  the  open  country  and  in  the  narrow  path  alike  he  is 
seized  and  held  fast.  More  and  more  closely  the  adverse 
power  confines  him,  bearing  upon  his  freedom  and  his 
life  till  his  superstitious  fears  are  kindled.  Terrors 
confound  him  now  on  every  side  and  suddenly  pre- 
sented startle  him  to  his  feet.  This  once  strong  man 
becomes  weak ;  he  who  had  abundance  knows  what  it 
is  to  hunger.  And  death  is  now  plainly  in  his  cup. 
Destruction,  a  hateful  figure,  is  constantly  at  his  side, 
appearing  as  disease  which  attacks  the  body.  It  is 
leprosy,  the  very  disease  Job  is  suffering. 

"  It  devoiireth  the  members  of  his  skin, 
Devoiireth  his  members,  even  the  firstborn  of  death. 
He  is  plucked  from  the  tent  of  his  confidence, 
And  he  is  brought  to  the  king  of  terrors.'^ 

The  personification  of  death  here  is  natural,  and  many 
parallels  to  the  figure  are  easily  found.  Horror  of  death 
is  a  mark  of  strong  healthy  life,  especially  among 
those  who  see  beyond  only  some  dark  Sheol  of  dreary 
hopeless  existence.  The  ''firstborn  of  death"  is  the 
frightful  black  leprosy,  and  it  has  that  figurative  name 


THE   BOOK   OF  JOB. 


as  possessing  more  than  other  diseases  that  power  to 
corrupt  the  body  which  death  itself  fully  exercises. 

This  cold  prediction  of  the  death  of  the  godless  from 
the  very  malady  that  has  attacked  Job  is  cruel  indeed, 
especially  from  the  lips  of  one  who  formerly  promised 
health  and  felicity  in  this  world  as  the  result  of  peni- 
tence. We  may  say  that  Bildad  has  found  it  his  duty 
to  preach  the  terrors  of  God,  and  the  duty  appears  con- 
genial to  him,  for  he  describes  with  insistence  and 
ornament  the  end  of  the  godless.  But  he  should  have 
deferred  this  terrible  homily  till  he  had  clear  proof  of 
Job's  wickedness.  Bildad  says  things  in  the  zeal  of 
his  spirit  against  the  godless  which  he  will  afterwards 
bitterly  regret. 

Having  brought  the  victim  of  destiny  to  the  grave, 
the  speaker  has  yet  more  to  say.  There  were  con- 
sequences that  extended  beyond  a  man's  own  suffering 
and  extinction.  His  family,  his  name,  all  that  was 
desired  of  remembrance  in  this  world  would  be  denied 
.to  the  evil-doer.  In  the  universe,  as  Bildad  sees  it,  there 
is  no  room  for  repentance  or  hope  even  to  the  children 
of  the  man  against  whom  the  decree  of  fate  has  gone 
forth. 

"  They  shall  dwell  in  his  tent  that  are  none  of  his  : 
Brimstone  shall  be  shoivcred  on  his  habitation  ; 
His  roots  shall  be  dried  up  beneath, 
And  above  his  branches  shall  wither  ; 
His  memory  shall  perish  from  the  land, 
And  he  shall  have  no  natne  in  the  earth — 
//  shall  be  driven  from  light  into  darkness, 
And  chased  out  of  the  world.'" 

The  habitation  of  the  sinner  shall  either  pass  into  the 
hand  of  utter  strangers  or  be  covered  with  brimstone 
and  made  accursed.  The  roots  of  his  family  or  clan, 
those  who  still  survive  of  an  older  generation,  and  the 


xviii.]  A   SCHEME    OF  WORLD-RULE.  221 

branches  above — children  or  grandchildren,  as  in  verse 
19— shall  wither  away.  So  his  memory  shall  perish, 
alike  in  the  land  where  he  dwelt  and  abroad  in  other 
regions.  His  name  shall  go  into  oblivion,  chased  with 
aversion  and  disgust  out  of  the  world.  Such,  says 
Bildad,  is  the  fate  of  the  wicked.  Job  saw  fit  to  speak 
of  men  being  astonished  at  the  vindication  he  was  to 
enjoy  when  God  appeared  for  him.  But  the  surprise 
would  be  of  a  different  kind.  At  the  utter  destruction 
of  the  wicked  man  and  his  seed,  his  homestead  and 
memory,  they  of  the  west  would  be  astonished  and 
they  of  the  east  affrighted. 

As  logical  as  many  another  schem.e  since  offered  to 
the  world,  a  moral  scheme  also,  this  of  Bildad  is  at 
once  determined  and  incoherent.  He  has  no  doubt, 
no  hesitation  in  presenting  it.  Were  he  the  moral 
governor,  there  would  be  no  mercy  for  sinners  who 
refused  to  be  convicted  of  sin  in  his  w^ay  and  according 
to  his  law  of  judgment.  He  would  lay  snares  for  them, 
hunt  them  down,  snatch  at  every  argument  against 
them.  In  his  view  that  is  the  only  way  to  overcome 
unregenerate  hearts  and  convince  them  of  guilt.  In 
order  to  save  a  man  he  would  destroy  him.  To  make 
him  penitent  and  holy  he  would  attack  his  whole  right 
to  live.  Of  the  humane  temper  Bildad  has  almost 
none. 


XVI. 

''MY  REDEEMER  LIVETW 
Job  speaks.     Chap.  xix. 

WITH  simple  strong  art  sustained  by  exuberant 
eloquence  the  author  has  now  thrown  his  hero 
upon  our  sympathies,  blending  a  strain  of  expectancy 
with  tender  emotion.  In  shame  and  pain,  sick  almost  to 
death,  bafQed  in  his  attempts  to  overcome  the  seeming 
indifference  of  Heaven,  the  sufferer  lies  broken  and 
dejected.  Bildad's  last  address  describing  the  fate  of 
the  godless  man  has  been  deUberately  planned  to  strike 
at  Job  under  cover  of  a  general  statement  of  the  method 
of  retribution.  The  pictures  of  one  seized  by  the 
"firstborn  of  death,"  of  the  lightless  and  desolate 
habitation,  the  withered  branches  and  decaying  remem- 
brance of  the  wicked,  are  plainly  designed  to  reflect 
Job's  present  state  and  forecast  his  coming  doom.  At 
first  the  effect  is  almost  overwhelming.  The  judgment 
of  men  is  turned  backward  and  like  the  forces  of  nature 
and  providence  has  become  relentless.  The  united 
pressure  on  a  mind  weakened  by  the  body's  malady 
goes  far  to  induce  despair.  Meanwhile  the  sufferer 
must  endure  the  burden  not  only  of  his  personal 
calamities  and  the  alienation  of  all  human  friendships, 
but  also  of  a  false  opinion  with  which  he  has  to  grapple  , 
as  much  for  the  sake  of  mankind  as  for  his  own.     He 


xLx.]  "MY  REDEEMER  LIVETH."  223 

represents  the  seekers  after  the  true  God  and  true 
religion  in  an  age  of  darkness,  aware  of  doubts  other 
men  do  not  admit,  labouring  after  a  hope  of  which 
the  world  feels  no  need.  The  immeasurable  weight 
this  lays  on  the  soul  is  to  many  unknown.  Some  few 
there  are,  as  Carlyle  says,  and  Job  appears  one  of  them, 
who  ^'have  to  realise  a  worship  for  themselves,  or  live 
unworshipping.  In  dim  forecastings,  wrestles  within 
them  the  *  Divine  Idea  of  the  World,'  yet  will  nowhere 
visibly  reveal  itself.  The  Godlike  has  vanished  from 
the  w^orld ;  and  they,  by  the  strong  cry  of  their  soul's 
agony,  like  true  wonder-workers,  must  again  evoke  its  - 
presence.  .  .  .  The  doom  of  the  Old  has  long  been 
pronounced,  and  irrevocable ;  the  Old  has  passed  away  ; 
but,  alas,  the  New  appears  not  in  its  stead,  the  Time 
is  still  in  pangs  of  travail  with  the  New.  Man  has 
walked  by  the  light  of  conflagrations  and  amid  the 
sound  of  falling  cities ;  and  now  there  is  darkness,  and 
long  watching  till  it  be  morning.  The  voice  of  the 
faithful  can  but  exclaim  :  '  As  yet  struggles  the  twelfth 
hour  of  the  night  :  birds  of  darkness  are  on  the  wing, 
spectres  uproar,  the  dead  walk,  the  living  dream. 
Thou,  Eternal  Providence,  wilt  cause  the  day  to 
dawn.'" 

As  in  the  twelfth  hour  of  the  night,  the  voices  of 
men  sounding  hollow  and  strange  to  him,  the  author  K 
of  the  Book  of  Job  found  himself.  Current  ideas 
about  God  would  have  stifled  his  thought  if  he  had 
not  realised  his  danger  and  the  world's  danger  and 
thrown  himself  forward,  breaking  through,  even  with 
defiance  and  passion,  to  make  a  way  for  reason  to  the 
daylight  of  God.  Limiting  and  darkening  statements 
he  took  up  as  they  were  presented  to  him  over  and 
over  again  ;  he  tracked  them  to  their  sources  in  ignor- 


224  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

ance,  pedantry,  hardness  of  temper.  He  insisted  that 
the  one  thing  for  a  man  is  resolute  clearness  of  mind, 
openness  to  the  teaching  of  God,  to  the  correction  of 
the  Almighty,  to  that  truth  of  the  whole  world  which 
alone  corresponds  to  faith.  Believing  that  the  ultimate 
satisfying  object  of  faith  will  disclose  itself  at  last  to 
every  pure  seeker,  each  in  his  degree,  he  began  his 
quest  and  courageously  pursued  it,  never  allowing  hope  >/ 
to  wander  where  reason  dared  not  follow,  checking 
himself  on  the  very  brink  of  alluring  speculation  by  a 
deliberate  reconnaissance  "of  the  facts  of  life  and  the 
limitations  of  knowledge.  Nowhere  more  clearly  than 
in  this  speech  of  Job  does  the  courageous  truthfulness 
of  the  author  show  itself.  He  seems  to  find  his  oracle, 
and  then  with  a  sigh  return  to  the  path  of  sober  reality 
because  as  yet  verification  of  the  sublime  idea  is  beyond 
his  power.  The  vision  appears  and  is  fixed  in  a  vivid 
picture — marking  the  highest  flight  of  his  inspiration — 
that  those  who  follow  may  have  it  before  them,  to  be 
examined,  tried,  perhaps  approved  in  the  long  run. 
But  for  himself,  or  at  any  rate  for  his  hero,  one  who 
has  to  find  his  faith  through  the  natural  world  and  its 
revelations  of  Divine  faithfulness,  the  bounds  within 
which  absolute  certainty  existed  for  the  human  mind 
at  that  time  are  accepted  unflinchingly.  The  hope 
remains  ;  but  assurance  is  sought  on  a  lower  level, 
where  the  Divine  order  visible  in  the  universe  sheds 
light  on  the  moral  life  of  man. 

That  inspiration  should  thus  work  within  bounds, 
conscious  of  itself,  yet  restrained  by  human  ignorance, 
may  be  questioned.  The  apprehension  of  transcendent 
truth  not  yet  proved  by  argument,  the  authoritative 
statement  of  such  truth  for  the  guidance  and  confirma- 
tion of  faith,  lastly,  complete  independence  of  ordinary 


xix.]  "i^/y  REDEEMER  LIVETHr  225 

criticism — are  not  these  the  functions  and  qualities  of 
inspiration  ?  And  yet,  here,  the  inspired  man,  with 
insight  fresh  and  marvellous,  declines  to  allow  his  hero 
or  any  thinker  repose  in  the  very  hope  which  is  the 
chief  fruit  of  his  inspiration,  leaving  it  as  something 
thrown  out,  requiring  to  be  tested  and  verified  ;  and 
meanwhile  he  takes  his  stand  as  a  prophet  on  those 
nearer,  in  a  sense  more  common,  yet  withal  sustaining 
principles  that  are  within  the  range  of  the  ordinary 
mind.  Such  we  shall  find  to  be  the  explanation  of  the 
speeches  of  the  Almighty  and  their  absolute  silence 
regarding  the  future  redemption.  Such  also  may  be 
said  to  be  the  reason  of  the  epilogue,  apparently  so 
inconsistent  with  the  scope  of  the  poem.  On  firm 
ground  the  writer  takes  his  stand — ground  which  no 
thinker  of  his  time  could  declare  to  be  hollow.  The 
thorough  saneness  of  his  mind,  shown  in  this  final 
decision,  gives  all  the  more  life  to  the  flashes  of  predic- 
tion and  the  Divine  intuitions  which  leap  out  of  the 
dark  sky  hanging  low  over  the  suffering  man. 

The  speech  of  Bildad  in  chap,  xviii.,  under  cover 
of  an  account  of  invariable  law  was  really  a  dream  of 
special  providence.  He  believed  that  the  Divine  King, 
who,  as  Christ  teaches,  ''  maketh  His  sun  to  rise  on 
the  evil  and  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and 
the  unjust,"  really  singles  out  the  wicked  for  peculiar 
treatment  corresponding  to  their  iniquity.  It  is  in  one 
sense  the  sign  of  vigorous  faith  to  attribute  action  of 
this  kind  to  God,  and  Job  himself  in  his  repeated 
appeals  to  the  unseen  Vindicator  shows  the  same 
conception  of  providence.  Should  not  One  intent  on 
righteousness  break  through  the  barriers  of  ordinary 
law  when  doubt  is  cast  on  His  equity  and  care  ?     Par- 

15 


226  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

donable  to  Job,  whose  case  is  altogether  exceptional, 
the  notion  is  one  the  author  sees  it  necessary  to  hold 
in  check.  There  is  no  Theophany  of  the  kind  Job 
desires.  On  the  contrary  his  very  craving  for  special 
intervention  adds  to  his  anxiety.  Because  it  is  not 
granted  he  affirms  that  God  has  perverted  his  right; 
and  when  at  last  the  voice  of  the  Almighty  is  heard, 
it  is  to  recall  the  doubter  from  his  personal  desires  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  vast  universe  as  revealing  a 
wide  and  wise  fidelity.  This  undernote  of  the  author's 
purpose,  while  it  serves  to  guide  us  in  the  interpreta- 
tion of  Job's  complaints,  is  not  allowed  to  rise  into  the 
dominant.  Yet  it  rebukes  those  who  think  the  great 
Divine  laws  have  not  been  framed  to  meet  their  case, 
who  rest  their  faith  not  on  what  God  does  always  and 
is  in  Himself,  but  on  what  they  believe  He  does 
sometimes  and  especially  for  them.  The  thoughts  of 
the  Lord  are  very  deep.  Our  lives  float  upon  them 
like  skiffs  upon  an  unfathomable  ocean  of  power  and 
fatherly  care. 

Of  the  treatment  he  receives  from  men  Job  com- 
plains, yet  not  because  they  are  the  means  of  his 
overthrow. 

^^  How  long  will  ye  vex  my  soul 
And  crush  me  utterly  with  sayings  ? 
These  ten  times  have  ye  reproached  me  ; 
Ye  are  not  ashamed  that  ye  condemn  me. 
And  be  it  verily  that  I  have  erred, 
Mine  error  remaineth  to  myself. 
Will  ye,  indeed,  exult  against  me 
And  reproach  me  with  my  disgrace  ? 
Know  now  that  God  hath  wronged  me 
And  compassed  me  about  with  His  net." 

Why  should  his  friends  be  so  persistent  in  charging 
him  with  offence  ?     He  has  not  wronged  them.     If  he 


xix.]  "My  REDEEMER  LIVETH."  227 

has  erred,  he  himself  is  the  sufferer.  It  is  not  for  them 
to  take  part  against  him.  Their  exultation  is  of  a 
kind  they  have  no  right  to  indulge,  for  they  have  not 
brought  him  to  the  misery  in  which  he  lies.  Bildad  "^ 
spoke  of  the  snare  in  which  the  wicked  is  caught. 
His  tone  in  that  passage  could  not  have  been  more 
complacent  if  he  himself  claimed  the  honour  of  bringing 
retribution  on  the  godless.  But  it  is  God,  says  Job, 
who  hath  compassed  me  with  His  net. 

"  Behold,  ofivrong  I  cry,  but  I  am  not  heard ; 
I  cry  for  help,  btit  there  is  no  judgment ." 

Day  after  day,  night  after  night,  pains  and  fears 
increase  :  death  draws  nearer.  He  cannot  move  out 
of  the  net  of  misery.  As  one  neglected,  outlawed,  he 
has  to  bear  his  inexpHcable  doom,  his  way  fenced  in 
so  that  he  cannot  pass,  darkness  thrown  over  his  world  ^ 
by  the  hand  of  God. 

Plunging  thus  anew  into  a  statement  of  his  hopeless 
condition  as  one  discrowned,  dishonoured,  a  broken 
man,  the  speaker  has  in  view  all  along  the  hard  human 
judgment  which  numbers  him  with  the  godless.  He 
would  m^elt  the  hearts  of  his  relentless  critics  by 
pleading  that  their  enmity  is  out  of  place.  If  the 
Almighty  is  his  enemy  and  has  brought  him  near  to 
the  dust  of  death,  why  should  men  persecute  him  as 
God  ?  Might  they  not  have  pity  ?  There  is  indeed  ^ 
resentment  against  providence  in  his  mind  ;  but  the 
anxious  craving  for  human  sympathy  reacts  on  his 
language  and  makes  it  far  less  fierce  and  bitter  than 
in  previous  speeches.  Grief  rather  than  revolt  is  now 
his  mood. 

"  He  hath  stripped  me  of  my  glory 
And  taken  my  crown  from  my  head. 


228  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

He  hath  broken  me  down  on  every  side, 

Uprooted  my  hope  like  a  tree. 

He  hath  also  kindled  his  tvrath  against  me 

And  counted  me  among  His  adversaries. 

His  troops  come  on  together 

And  cast  tip  their  way  against  me 

And  encamp  around  my  tent.''' 

So  far  the  Divine  indignation  has  gone.  Will  his 
friends  not  think  of  it  ?  Will  they  not  look  upon  him 
with  less  of  hardness  and  contempt  though  he  may  have 
sinned  ?  A  man  in  a  hostile  universe,  a  feeble  man, 
stricken  virith  disease,  unable  to  help  himself,  the 
heavens  frowning  upon  him — why  should  they  harden 
their  hearts  ? 

And  yet,  see  how  his  brethren  have  dealt  with  him  ! 
Mark  how  those  who  were  his  friends  stand  apart, 
Eliphaz  and  the  rest,  behind  them  others  who  once 
claimed  kinship  with  him.  How  do  they  look  ?  Their 
faces  are  clouded.  They  must  be  on  God's  side  against 
Job.     Yea,  God  Himself  has  moved  them  to  this. 

^^  He  hath  put  my  brethren  far  frorn  me, 
And  my  confidants  are  wholly  estranged  from.  me. 
My  kinsfolk  have  failed 

And  niy  familiar  friends  have  forgotten  me. 

They  that  dwell  in  my  house  and  tny  maids  count  me  for  a  stranger  ; 
I  am  an  alien  in  their  sight. 
I  call  my  servant  and  he  gives  me  no  answer, 
I  must  entreat  him  with  my  mouth. 
My  breath  is  offensive  to  my  wife. 
And  my  ill  savour  to  the  sons  of  my  body. 
Even  young  children  despise  me  ; 
If  I  would  arise  they  speak  against  me. 
My  bone  cleaveth  to  my  skin  and  to  my  flesh. 
And  I  am  escaped  ivith  the  skin  of  my  teeth." 

The  picture  is  one  of  abject  humihation.  He  is  re- 
jected by  all  who  once  loved  him,  forced  to  entreat 
his  servants,  become  offensive  to  his  wife  and  grand- 


xix.]  ''MY  REDEEMER  LlVETHr  229 

sons,  jeered  at  even  by  children  of  the  place.  The 
case  appears  to  us  unnatural  and  shows  the  almost 
fiendish  hardness  of  the  Oriental  world  ;  that  is  to  say, 
if  the  account  is  not  coloured  for  dramatic  purposes. 
The  intention  is  to  represent  the  extremity  of  Job's 
wretchedness,  the  lowest  depth  to  which  he  is  re- 
duced. The  fire  of  his  spirit  is  almost  quenched  by 
shame  and  desolation.  He  shows  the  days  of  his 
misery  in  the  strongest  shadow  in  order  to  compel,  if 
possible,  the  sympathy  so  persistently  withheld. 

'•  Have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon  me,  O  ye  juy  friends, 
For  the  hand  of  God  hath  touched  me. 
Why  do  ye  persecute  me  as  God, 
And  are  not  satisfied  with  my  flesh  ?  " 

Now  we  understand  the  purpose  of  the  long  descrip- 
tion of  his  pain,  both  that  which  God  has  inflicted  and 
that  caused  by  the  alienation  and  contempt  of  men. 
Into  his  soul  the  prediction  of  Bildad  has  entered,  that 
he  will  share  the  fate  of  the  wicked  whose  memory 
perishes  from  the  earth,  whose  name  is  driven  from 
light  into  darkness  and  chased  out  of  the  world.  Is 
it  to  be  so  with  him  ?  That  were  indeed  a  final 
disaster.  To  bring  his  friends  to  some  sense  of  what 
all  this  means  to  him — this  is  what  he  struggles  after. 
It  is  not  even  the  pity  of  it  that  is  the  chief  point, 
although  through  that  he  seeks  to  gain  his  end.  But 
if  God  is  not  to  interpose,  if  his  last  hour  is  coming 
without  a  sign  of  heaven's  relenting,  he  would  at  least 
have  men  stand  beside  him,  take  his  words  to  heart, 
believe  them  possibly  true,  hand  down  for  his  memorial 
the  claim  he  has  made  of  integrity.  Surely,  surely 
he  shall  not  be  thought  of  by  the  next  generation  as 
Job  the  proud  defiant  evil-doer  laid  low  by  the  judg- 
ments of  an  offended  God — brought  to  shame  as  one 


230  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

who  deserved  to  be  counted  amongst  the  offscourings 
of  the  earth.  It  is  enough  that  God  has  persecuted 
him,  that  God  is  slaying  him — let  not  men  take  it  upon 
them  to  do  so  to  the  last.  Before  he  dies  let  one  at 
least  say,  Job,  my  friend,  perhaps  you  are  sincere, 
perhaps  you  are  misjudged, 

Urgent  is  the  appeal.  It  is  in  vain.  Not  a  hand  is 
stretched  out,  not  one  grim  face  relaxes.  The  man 
has  made  his  last  attempt.  He  is  now  like  a  pressed 
animal  between  the  hunter  and  the  chasm.  And  why 
is  the  author  so  rigorous  in  his  picture  of  the  friends  ? 
It  is  made  to  all  appearance  quite  inhuman,  and  cannot 
be  so  without  design.  By  means  of  this  inhumanity 
Job  is  flung  once  for  all  upon  his  need  of  God  from 
whom  he  had  almost  turned  away  to  man.  The  poet 
knows  that  not  in  man  is  the  help  of  the  soul,  that  not 
in  the  sympathy  of  man,  not  in  the  remembrance  of 
man,  not  in  the  care  or  even  love  of  man  as  a  passing 
tenant  of  earth  can  the  labouring  heart  put  its  confi-i 
dence.  From  the  human  judgment  Job  turned  to  God 
at  first.  From  the  Divine  silence  he  had  well-nigh 
turned  back  to  human  pity.  He  finds  what  other 
sufferers  have  found,  that  the  silence  is  allowed  to 
extend  beneath  him,  between  him  and  his  fellows,  in 
order  that  he  may  finally  and  effectually  direct  his  hope 
and  faith  above  himself,  above  the  creaturely  race,  to 
Him  from  whom  all  came,  in  whose  will  and  love  alone 
the  spirit  of  man  has  its  life,  its  hope.  Yes,  God  is 
bringing  home  to  Himself  the  man  whom  He  has 
approved  for  approval.  The  way  is  strange  to  the 
feet  of  Job,  as  it  often  is  to  the  weary  half-blinded 
pilgrim.  But  it  is  the  one  way  to  fulfil  and  transcend 
our  longings.  Neither  corporate  sympathy  nor  post- 
humous immortaUty  can  ever  stand  to  a  thinking  soul 


xix.]  ''MY  REDEEMER  LIVETHT  231 

instead  of  the  true  firm  judgment  of  its  life  that  waits 
within  the  knowledge  of  God.  If  He  is  not  for  us, 
the  epitaphs  and  memoirs  of  time  avail  nothing.  Man's 
i  place  is  in  the  eternal  order  or  he  does  indeed  cry  out 
of  wrong  and  is  not  heard. 

From  men  to  the  written  book,  from  men  to  the 
graven  rock,  more  enduring,  more  public  than  the 
book — will  this  provide  what  is  still  unfound  ? 

"  Oil  that  now  my  words  were  written^ 
That  they  were  inscribed  in  a  book  ; 
That  with  an  iron  stylus  and  with  lead 
They  were  graven  in  the  rock  for  ever." 

As  one  accustomed  to  the  uses  of  wealth  Job  speaks. 
He  thinks  first  of  a  parchment  in  which  his  story  and 
his  claim  may  be  carefully  written  and  preserved. 
But  he  sees  at  once  how  perishable  that  would  be  and 
passes  to  a  form  of  memorial  such  as  great  men 
employed.  He  imagines  a  cliff"  in  the  desert  with  a 
monumental  inscription  bearing  that  once  he,  the 
Emeer  of  Uz,  lived  and  suffered,  was  thrown  from 
prosperity,  was  accused  by  men,  was  worn  by  disease, 
but  died  maintaining  that  all  this  befel  him  unjustly, 
that  he  had  done  no  wrong  to  God  or  man.  It  would 
stand  there  in  the  way  of  the  caravans  of  Tema  for 
succeeding  generations  to  read.  It  would  stand  there 
till  the  ages  had  run  their  course.  Kings  represent  on 
rocks  their  wars  and  triumphs.  As  one  of  royal  dignity 
Job  would  use  the  same  means  of  continuing  his  protest*^ 
and  his  name. 

Yet,  so  far  as  his  life  is  concerned,  what  good, — the 
story  spread  northward  to  Damascus,  but  he.  Job,  lost 
in  Sheol  ?  His  protest  is  against  forms  of  death  ;  his 
claim  is  for  life.  There  is  no  life  in  the  sculptured 
stone.     Baffled  again   he  halts  midway.     His  foot  on  ^ 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


a  crumbling  point,  there  must  be  yet  one  spring  for 
safety  and  refuge. 

Who  has  not  felt,  looking  at  the  records  of  the  past, 
inscriptions  on  tablets,  rocks  and  temples,  the  wistful 
throb  of  antiquity  in  those  anxious  legacies  of  a  world 
of  men  too  well  aware  of  man's  forgetfulness  ?  "  Who- 
ever alters  the  work  of  my  hand,"  says  the  conqueror 
called  Sargon,  *'  destroys  my  constructions,  pulls  down 
the  walls  which  I  have  raised ---may  Asshur,  Nineb, 
Raman  and  the  great  gods  who  dwell  there  pluck  his 
name  and  seed  from  the  land  and  let  him  sit  bound  at 
the  feet  of  his  foe."  Invocation  of  the  gods  in  this 
manner  was  the  only  resource  of  him  who  in  that  far 
past  feared  oblivion  and  knew  that  there  was  need  to 
fear.  But  to  a  higher  God,  in  words  of  broken  elo- 
quence. Job  is  made  to  commit  his  cause,  seeing  beyond 
the  perishable  world  the  imperishable  remembrance  of 
the  Almighty.  So  a  Hebrew  poet  breathed  into  the 
Vv'andering  air  of  the  desert  that  brave  hope  which  after- 
wards, far  beyond  his  thought,  was  in  Israel  to  be 
fulfilled.  Had  he  been  exiled  from  Galilee  ?  In  Galilee 
was  to  be  heard  the  voice  that  told  of  immortality  and  >/ 
redemption. 

We  must  go  back  in  the  book  to  find  the  beginning 
of  the  hope  now  seized.  Already  Job  has  been  looking 
forth  beyond  the  region  of  this  little  life.  What  has 
he  seen  ? 

First  and  always,  Eloah.  That  name  and  what  it 
V  represents  do  not  fail  him.  He  has  had  terrible  experi- 
ences, and  all  of  them  must  have  been  appointed  by 
Eloah.  But  the  name  is  venerable  still,  and  despite  all 
difficulties  he  clings  to  the  idea  that  righteousness  goes 
with  power  and  wisdom.     The  power  bewilders— the 


xix.]  "MY  REDEEMER  LIVETHr  233 

wisdom  plans  inconceivable  things — but  beyond  there 
is  righteousness. 

Next.  He  has  seen  a  gleam  of  light  across  the 
darkness  of  the  grave,  through  the  gloom  of  the  under- 
world. A  man  going  down  thither, — his  body  to 
moulder  into  dust,  his  spirit  to  wander  a  shadow  in 
a  prison  of  shadows, — may  not  remain  there.  God  is 
almighty — He  has  the  key  of  Sheol — a  star  has  shown 
for  a  little,  giving  hope  that  out  of  the  under-world  life 
may  be  recovered.  It  is  seen  that  Eloah,  the  Maker, 
must  have  a  desire  to  the  work  of  His  hands.  What 
does  that  not  mean  ? 

Again.  It  has  been  borne  upon  his  mind  that  the 
record  of  a  good  life  abides  and  is  with  the  All-seeing. 
What  is  done  cannot  be  undone.  The  wasting  of  the 
flesh  cannot  waste  that  Divine  knowledge.  The  eternal 
history  cannot  be  effaced.  Spiritual  life  is  lived  before 
Eloah  who  guards  the  right  of  a  man.  Men  scorn  Job  ; 
but  with  tears  he  has  prayed  to  Eloah  to  right  his 
cause,  and  that  prayer  cannot  be  in  vain. 

A  just  prayer  cannot  be  in  vain  because  God  is  ever 
just.  From  this  point  thought  mounts  upward.  Eloah 
for  ever  faithful — Eloah  able  to  open  the  gate  of  Sheol — 
not  angry  for  ever — Eloah  keeping  the  tablet  of  every 
life,  indifferent  to  no  point  of  right, — these  are  the  steps 
of  progress  in  Job's  thought  and  hope.  And  these  are 
the  gain  of  his  trial.  In  his  prosperous  time  none  of 
these  things  had  been  before  him.  He  had  known  the 
joy  of  God  but  not  the  secret,  the  peace  not  the  right- 
eousness. Yet  he  is  not  aware  how  much  he  has 
gained.  He  is  coming  half  unconsciously  to  an  in- 
heritance prepared  for  him  in  wisdom  and  in  love  by 
Eloah  in  whom  he  trusts.  A  man  needs  for  life  more 
than  he  himself  can  either  sow  or  ripen. 


234  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

And  now,  hear  Job.  Whether  the  rock  shall  be 
graven  or  not  he  cannot  tell.  Does  it  matter?  He 
sees  far  beyond  that  inscribed  cliff  in  the  desert.  He 
sees  what  alone  can  satisfy  the  spirit  that  has  learned 
to  live. 

"  'Tis  life  whereof  our  nerves  are  scant,  -^^ - 

Oh  life  not  death,  for  which  we  pant ;      5-^ 
More  life,  and  fuller,  that  I  want." 

Not  dimly  this  great  truth  flashes  through  the  web  of 
broken  ejaculation,  panting  thought. 

"  But  I  know  it :  niy  Redeemer  liveth  ; 
And  afterward  on  the  dust  He  will  stand  up  ; 
And  after  my  skin  they  destroy,  even  this, 
And  without  my  flesh  shall  I  see  Eloah, 
Whom  I  shall  see  for  Me, 

And  mine  eyes  shall  behold  and  not  the  stranger — 
My  reins  are  consumed  in  my  bosom. " 

The  Goel  or  Redeemer  pledged  to  him  by  eternal 
justice  is  yet  to  arise,  a  living  Remembrancer  and 
Vindicator  from  all  wrong  and  dishonour.  On  the 
dust  that  covers  death  He  will  arise  when  the  day 
comes.  The  diseases  that  prey  on  the  perishing  body 
shall  have  done  their  work.  In  the  grave  the  flesh 
shall  have  passed  into  decay ;  but  the  spirit  that  has 
borne  shall  behold  Him.  Not  for  the  passing  stranger 
shall  be  the  vindication,  but  for  Job  himself.  All  that 
has  been  so  confounding  shall  be  explained,  for  the 
Most  High  is  the  Goel ;  He  has  the  care  of  His  suffer- 
ing servant  in  His  own  hand  and  will  not  fail  to  issue 
it  in  clear  satisfying  judgment. 

For  the  inspired  writer  of  these  words,  declaring 
the  faith  which  had  sprung  up  within  him ;  for  us  also 
who  desire  to  share  his  faith  and  to  be  assured  of  the 
future  vindication,  three  barriers  stand  in  the  way,  and 
these  have  successively  to  be  passed. 


xix.]  ''MY  REDEEMER  LlVETHr  235 

First  is  the  difficulty  of  believing  that  the  Most  High 
need  trouble  Himself  to  disentangle  all  the  rights  from 
the  wrongs  in  human  life.  Is  humanity  of  such  import- 
ance in  the  universe  ?  God  is  very  high  ;  human  affairs 
may  be  of  little  consequence  to  His  eternal  majesty. 
Is  not  this  earth  on  which  we  dwell  one  of  the  smaller 
of  the  planets  that  revolve  about  the  sun  ?  Is  not 
our  sun  one  amongst  a  myriad,  many  of  them  far 
transcending  it  in  size  and  splendour  ?  Can  we  de- 
mand or  even  feel  hopeful  that  the  Eternal  Lord  shall 
adjust  the  disordered  equities  of  our  little  state 
and  appear  for  the  right  which  has  been  obscured  in 
the  small  affairs  of  time  ?  A  century  is  long  to  us  ; 
but  our  ages  are  *'  moments  in  the  being  of  the  eternal 
silence."  Can  it  matter  to  the  universe  moving  through 
perpetual  cycles  of  evolution,  new  races  and  phases 
of  creaturely  life  arising  and  running  their  course — can 
it  matter  that  one  race  should  pass  away  having  simply 
contributed  its  struggle  and  desire  to  the  far-off  result  ? 
Conceivably,  in  the  design  of  a  wise  and  good  Creator, 
this  might  be  a  destiny  for  a  race  of  beings  to  subserve. 
How  do  we  know  it  is  not  ours  ? 

This  difficulty  has  grown.  It  stands  now  in  the 
way  of  all  religion,  even  of  the  Christian  faith.  God 
is  among  the  immensities  and  eternities;  evolution 
breaks  in  wave  after  wave ;  we  are  but  one.  How 
can  we  assure  our  hearts  that  the  inexterminable 
longing  for  equity  shall  have  fulfilment  ? 

Next  there  is  the  difficulty  which  belongs  to  the 
individual  life.  To  enjoy  the  hope,  feel  the  certainty  to 
which  Job  reached  forth,  you  or  I  must  make  the  bold 
assumption  that  our  personal  controversies  are  of  eternal 
importance.  One  is  obscure  ;  his  life  has  moved  in 
a  very  narrow  circle.     He  has  done  little,  he  knows 


236  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


little.  His  sorrows  have  been  keen,  but  they  are 
brief  and  limited.  He  has  been  held  down,  scorned, 
afflicted.  But  after  all  why  should  God  care  ?  To 
adjust  the  affairs  of  nations,  to  bring  out  the  world's 
history  in  righteousness  may  be  God's  concern.  But 
suppose  a  man  lives  bravely,  bears  patiently,  preserves 
his  life  from  evil,  though  he  have  to  suffer  and  even 
go  down  in  darkness,  may  not  the  end  of  the  righteous 
King  be  gained  by  the  weight  his  life  casts  into  the 
scale  of  faith  and  virtue  ?  Should  not  the  man  be 
satisfied  with  this  result  of  his  energy  and  look  for 
nothing  more  ?  Does  eternal  righteousness  demand 
anything  more  on  behalf  of  a  man  ?  Included  in  this  is 
the  question  whether  the  disputes  between  men,  the 
small  ignorances,  egotisms,  clashing  of  wills,  need  a  final 
assize.  Are  they  not  trifling  and  transient  ?  Can  we 
affirm  that  in  these  is  involved  an  element  of  justice 
which  it  concerns  our  Maker  to  establish  before  the 
worlds  ? 

The  third  barrier  is  not  less  than  the  others  to 
modern  thought.  How  is  our  life  to  be  preserved  or 
revived,  so  that  personally  and  consciously  we  shall 
have  our  share  in  the  clearing  up  of  the  human  story 
and  be  gladdened  by  the  "  Well  done,  good  and  faith- 
ful servant"  of  the  Judge?  That  verdict  is  entirely 
personal ;  but  how  may  the  faithful  servant  live  to  hear 
it?  Death  appears  inexorable.  Despite  the  resurrection 
of  Christ,  despite  the  words  He  has  spoken,  "  I  am  the 
resurrection  and  the  life,"  even  to  Christians  the  vision 
is  often  clouded,  the  survival  of  consciousness  hard  to 
believe  in.  How  did  the  author  of  Job  pass  this  barrier 
— in  thought,  or  in  hope  ?  Are  we  content  to  pass 
it  only  in  hope  ? 

I    answer  all   these   questions    together.      And   the 


xix.]  "  MY  REDEEMER   LIVETHT  237 


answer  lies  in  the  very  existence  of  the  idea  of  justice, 
our  knowledge  of  justice,  our  desire  for  it,  the  fragment- 
ariness  of  our  history  till  right  has  been  done  to  us  by 
others,  by  us  to  others,  by  man  to  God,  and  God  to 
man — the  full  right,  whatever  that  may  involve. 

Whence  came  our  sense  of  justice  ?  We  can  only 
say,  From  Him  who  made  us.  He  gave  us  such  a 
nature  as  cannot  be  satisfied  nor  find  rest  till  an  ideal 
of  justice,  that  is  of  acted  truth,  is  framed  in  our  human 
life  and  everything  possible  done  to  realise  it.  Upon 
this  acted  truth  all  depends,  and  till  it  is  reached  we 
are  in  suspense.  Deep  in  the  mind  of  man  lies  that 
need.  Yet  it  is  always  a  hunger.  More  and  more 
it  unsettles  him,  keeps  him  in  unrest,  turning  from 
scheme  to  scheme  of  ethic  and  society.  He  is  ever 
making  compromises,  waiting  for  evolutions  ;  but  nature 
knows  no  compromises  and  gives  him  no  clue  save  in 
present  fact.  Is  it  possible  that  He  who  made  us  will  . 
not  overpass  our  poor  best,  will  not  sweep  aside  the. 
shifts  and  evasions  current  in  our  imperfect  economy  ? 
The  passion  for  righteousness  comes  from  him ;  it  is  a  y 
ray  of  Himself.  The  soul  of  the  good  man  craving 
perfect  hohness  and  toiling  for  it  in  himself,  in  others, 
can  it  be  greater  than  God,  more  strenuous,  more 
subtle  than  the  Divine  evolution  that  gave  him  birth, 
the  Divine  Father  of  his  spirit  ?  Impossible  in  thought, 
impossible  in  fact. 

No.  Justice  there  is  in  every  matter.  Surely  science 
has  taught  us  very  little  if  it  has  not  banished  the  notion 
that  the  small  means  the  unimportant,  that  minute  things 
are  of  no  moment  in  evolution.  For  many  years  past  ^ 
science  has  been  constructing  for  us  the  great  argument 
of  universal  physical  fidelity,  universal  weaving  of  the 
small  details  into  the  vast  evolutionary  design.     The 


238  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


microscopist,  the  biologist,  the  chemist/the  astronomer, 
each  and  all  are  engaged  in  building  up  this  argument, 
forcing  the  confession  that  the  universe  is  one  of 
inconceivably  small  things  ordered  throughout  by  law. 
Finish  and  care  would  seem  to  be  given  everywhere 
to  minutiae  as  though,  that  being  done,  the  great  would 
certainly  evolve.  Further,  science  even  when  dealing 
with  material  things  emphasises  the  importance  of  mind. 
The  truthfulness  of  nature  at  any  point  in  the  physical 
range  is  a  truthfulness  of  the  Overnature  to  the  mind 
of  man,  a  correlation  established  between  physical 
and  spiritual  existence.  Wherever  order  and  care  are 
brought  into  view  there  is  an  exaltation  of  the  human  / 
reason  which  perceives  and  relates.  All  would  be 
thrown  into  confusion  if  the  fidelity  recognised  by  the 
mind  did  not  extend  to  the  mind  itself,  if  the  sanity 
and  development  of  the  mind  were  not  included  in  the 
order  of  the  universe.  For  the  psychological  student 
this  is  established,  and  the  working  of  evolutionary  law 
is  being  traced  in  the  obscure  phenomena  of  conscious- 
ness, sub-consciousness  and  habit. 

Is  it  of  importance  that  each  of  the  gases  shall  have 
laws  of  diffusion  and  combination,  shall  act  according  to 
those  laws,  unvaryingly  affecting  vegetable  and  animal 
life  ?  Unless  those  laws  wrought  in  constancy  or 
equity  at  every  moment  all  would  be  confusion.  Is.it 
of  importance  that  the  bird,  using  its  wings,  shall  be  able 
to  soar  into  the  atmosphere  ;  that  the  wings  adapted 
for  flight  shall  find  an  atmosphere  in  which  their 
exercise  produces  movement  ?  Here  again  is  an  equity 
which  enters  into  the  very  constitution  of  the  cosmos, 
which  must  be  a  form  of  the  one  supreme  law  of  the 
cosmos.  Once  more,  is  it  of  importance  that  the  thinker 
shall  find  sequences  and  relations,  when  once  established, 


xix.]  "MY  REDEEMER  LIVETH."  239 


a  sound  basis  for  prediction  and  discovery,  that  he 
shall  be  able  to  trust  himself  on  lines  of  research 
and  feel  certain  that,  at  every  point,  for  the  instrument 
of  inquiry  there  is  answering  verity  ?  Without  this 
correspondence  man  would  have  no  real  place  in 
evolution,  he  would  flutter  an  aimless  unrelated  sensi- 
tiveness through  a  storm  of  physical  incidents. 

Advance  to  the  most  important  facts  of  mind,  the 
moral  ideas  which  enter  into  every  department  of 
thought,  the  inductions  through  which  we  find  our 
place  in  another  range  than  the  physical.  Does  the 
fidelity  already  traced  now  cease  ?  Is  man  at  this 
point  beyond  the  law  of  faithfulness,  beyond  the 
invariable  correlation  of  environment  with  faculty  ? 
Does  he  now  come  to  a  region  which  he  cannot  choose 
but  enter,  where,  however,  the  cosmos  fails  him,  the 
beating  wing  cannot  rise,  the  inquiring  mind  reaches 
no  verity,  and  the  consciousness  does  flutter  an 
inexplicable  thing  through  dreams  and  illusions  ?  A 
man  has  it  in  his  nature  to  seek  justice.  Peace  for 
him  there  is  none  unless  he  does  what  is  right  and  can 
believe  that  right  will  be  done.  With  this  high  con- 
viction in  his  mind  he  is  opposed,  as  in  this  Book  of 
Job,  by  false  men,  overthrown  by  calamity,  covered 
with  harsh  judgment.  Death  approaches  and  he 
has  to  pass  away  from  a  world  that  seems  to  have 
failed  him.  Shall  he  never  see  his  right  nor  God's 
righteousness  ?  Shall  he  never  come  to  his  own  as  a 
man  of  good  will  and  high  resolve  ?  Has  he  been  true 
to  a  cosmos  which  after  all  is  treacherous,  to  a  rule  of 
virtue  which  has  no  authority  and  no  issue  ?  He 
believes  in  a  Lord  of  infinite  justice  and  truth ;  that  his 
life,  small  as  it  is,  cannot  be  apart  from  the  pervading 
law  of  equity.     Is  that  his  dream  ?     Then  any  moment 


240  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


the  whole  system  of  the  universe  may  collapse  like  a 
bubble  blown  upon  a  marsh. 

Now  let  us  clearly  understand  the  point  and  value  of 
the  argument.  It  is  not  that  a  man  who  has  served 
God  here  and  suffered  here  must  have  a  joyful 
immortality.  What  man  is  faithful  enough  to  make 
such  a  claim  ?  But  the  principle  is  that  God  must 
vindicate  His  righteousness  in  dealing  with  the  man 
He  has  made,  the  man  He  has  called  to  trust  Him. 
It  matters  not  who  the  man  is,  how  obscure  his  life  has 
been,  he  has  this  claim  on  God,  that  to  him  the  eternal 
righteousness  ought  to  be  made  clear.  Job  cries  for 
his  own  justification  ;  but  the  doubt  about  God  involved 
in  the  slur  cast  upon  his  own  integrity  is  what  rankles 
in  his  heart ;  from  that  he  rises  in  triumphant  protest 
and  daring  hope.  He  must  live  till  God  clears  up  the 
matter.  If  he  dies  he  must  revive  to  have  it  all  made 
clear.  And  observe,  if  it  were  only  that  ignorant  men 
cast  doubt  on  providence,  the  resurrection  and  personal 
redemption  of  the  believer  would  not  be  necessary. 
God  is  not  responsible  for  the  foolish  things  men  say, 
and  we  could  not  look  for  resurrection  because  our 
fellow-creatures  misrepresent  God.  But  Job  feels  that 
God  Himself  has  caused  the  perplexity.  God  sent 
the  flash  of  lightning,  the  storm,  the  dreadful  disease  ;  J 
it  is  God  who  by  many  strange  things  in  human 
experience  seems  to  give  cause  for  doubt.  From  God 
in  nature,  God  in  disease,  God  in  the  earthquake  and 
the  thunderstorm,  God  whose  way  is  in  the  sea  and 
His  path  in  the  mighty  waters — from  this  God,  Job 
cries  in  hope,  in  moral  conviction,  to  God  the  Vindicator, 
the  eternally  righteous  One,  Author  of  nature  and 
Friend  of  man. 


xix.]  ''MY  REDEEMER   LIVETHT  241 


This  life  may  terminate  before  the  full  revelation  of 
right  is  made  ;  it  may  leave  the  good  in  darkness  and 
the  evil  flaunting  in  pride  ;  the  believer  may  go  down 
in  shame  and  the  atheist  have  the  last  word.  Therefore 
a  future  life  with  judgment  in  full  must  vindicate  our 
Creator  ;  and  every  personaHty  involved  in  the  pro- 
blems of  time  must  go  forward  to  the  opening  of  the 
seals  and  the  fulfilment  of  the  things  that  are  written 
in  the  volumes  of  God.  This  evolution  being  for  the 
earlier  stage  and  discipline  of  life,  it  works  out  nothing, 
completes  nothing.  What  it  does  is  to  furnish  the 
awaking  spirit  with  material  of  thought,  opportunity 
for  endeavour,  the  elements  of  life ;  with  trial,  tempta- 
tion, stimulus,  and  restraint.  No  one  who  lives  to  any 
purpose  or  thinks  with  any  sincerity  can  miss  in  the 
course  of  his  life  one  hour  at  least  in  which  he  shares 
the  tragical  contest  and  adds  the  cry  of  his  own  soul  to 
that  of  Job,  his  own  hope  to  that  of  ages  that  are 
gone,  straining  to  see  the  Goel  who  undertakes  for 
every  servant  of  God. 

"/  know  it :  my  Redeemer  Itveth, 
And  afterward  on  the  dust  He  will  stand  up  ; 
And  without  my  flesh  I  shall  see  Eloah" 

By  slow  cycles  of  change  the  vast  scheme  of  Divine  pro- 
vidence draws  toward  a  glorious  consummation.  The 
believer  waits  for  it,  seeing  One  who  has  gone  before 
him  and  will  come  after  him,  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of 
all  life.  The  fulness  of  time  will  at  length  arrive,  the 
time  foreordained  by  God,  foretold  by  Christ,  when  the 
throne  shall  be  set,  the  judgment  shall  be  given,  and 
the  aeons  of  manifestation  shall  begin. 

And    who   in   that   day  shall   be  the   sons  of  God  ? 
Which  of  us  can  say  that  he  knows  himself  worthy  of 

16 


242  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

immortality  ?  How  imperfect  is  the  noblest  human 
life,  how  often  it  falls  away  into  the  folly  and  evil  of 
the  world  !  We  need  one  to  deliver  us  from  the  im- 
perfection that  gives  to  all  we  are  and  do  the  character 
of  evanescence,  to  set  us  free  from  our  entanglements 
and  bring  us  into  liberty.  We  are  poor  erring 
creatures.  Only  if  there  is  a  Divine  purpose  of  grace 
that  extends  to  the  unworthy  and  the  frail,  only  if 
there  is  redemption  for  the  earthly,  only  if  a  Divine 
Saviour  has  undertaken  to  justify  our  existence  as 
moral  beings,  can  we  look  hopefully  into  the  future. 
Job  looked  for  a  Redeemer  who  would  bring  to  light  a 
righteousness  he  claimed  to  possess.  But  our  Redeemer 
must  be  able  to  awaken  in  us  the  love  of  a  righteousness 
we  alone  could  never  see  and  to  clothe  us  in  a  holiness 
we  could  never  of  ourselves  attain.  The  problem 
of  justice  in  human  life  will  be  solved  because  our 
race  has  a  Redeemer  whose  judgment  when  it  falls  will 
fall  in  tenderest  mercy,  who  bore  our  injustice  for 
our  sakes  and  will  vindicate  for  us  that  transcendent 
righteousness  which  is  for  ever  one  with  love. 


XVII. 

IGNORANT  CRITICISM  OF  LIFE. 

ZOPHAR    SPEAKS.       ChAP.    XX. 

THE  great  saying  that  quickens  our  faith  and  carries 
thought  into  a  higher  world  conveyed  no  Divine 
meaning  to  the  man  from  Naaraah.  The  author  must 
have  intended  to  pour  scorn  on  the  hide-bound  intelH- 
gence  and  rude  bigotry  of  Zophar,  to  show  him  dwarfed 
by  self-content  and  zeal  not  according  to  knowledge. 
When  Job  affirmed  his  sublime  confidence  in  a  Divine 
Vindicator,  Zophar  caught  only  at  the  idea  of  an 
avenger.  What  is  this  notion  of  a  Goel  on  whose  sup- 
port a  condemned  man  dares  to  count,  who  shall  do 
judgment  for  him  ?  And  his  resentment  was  increased 
by  the  closing  words  of  Job  : — 

"  If  ye  say,  How  may  we  pursue  him  ? 
And  that  the  catise  of  the  matter  is  in  m.e — 
Then  beware  of  the  sword  ! 
For  hot  are  the  punishments  of  the  sword, 
That  ye  may  know  there  is  judgment." 

If  they  went  on  declaring  that  the  root  of  the  matter, 
that  is,  the  real  cause  of  his  affliction,  was  to  be  found 
in  his  own  bad  life,  let  them  beware  the  avenging 
sword  of  Divine  justice.  He  certainly  implies  that  his 
Goel  may  become  their  enemy  if  they  continue  to  perse- 
cute him  with  false  charges.     To  Zophar  the  suggestion 

243 


244  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

is  intolerable.     With  no  little  irritation   and  anger  he 
begins : — 

"  For  this  do  my  thoughts  answer  me, 
And  by  reason  of  this  there  is  haste  in  me — 
/  hear  the  reproof  which  puts  me  to  shame, 
And  the  spirit  of  my  understanding  gives  me  answer'^ 

He  speaks  more  hotly  than  in  his  first  address, 
because  his  pride  is  touched,  and  that  prevents  him 
from  distinguishing  between  a  warning  and  a  personal 
threat.  To  a  Zophar  every  man  is  blind  who  does 
not  see  as  he  sees,  and  every  word  offensive  that  bids 
him  take  pause.  Believers  of  his  kind  have  always 
liked  to  appropriate  the  defence  of  truth,  and  they  have 
seldom  done  anything  but  harm.  Conceive  the  dulness 
and  obstinacy  of  one  w^ho  heard  an  inspired  utterance 
altogether  new  to  human  thought,  and  straightway 
turned  in  resentment  on  the  man  from  whom  it  came. 
He  is  an  example  of  the  bigot  in  the  presence  of  genius, 
a  little  uncomfortable,  a  good  deal  affronted,  very  sure 
that  he  knows  the  mind  of  God,  and  very  determined 
to  have  the  last  word.  Such  were  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees  of  our  Lord's  time,  most  religious  persons 
and  zealous  for  what  they  considered  sound  doctrine. 
His  light  shone  in  darkness,  and  their  darkness  com- 
prehended it  not ;  they  did  Him  to  death  with  an  accu- 
sation of  impiety  and  blasphemy — "  He  made  Himself 
the  Son  of  God,"  they  said. 

Zophar's  whole  speech  is  a  fresh  example  of  the 
dogmatic  hardness  the  writer  was  assailing,  the  closure 
of  the  mind  and  the  stiffening  of  thought.  One  might 
not  unjustly  accuse  this  speaker  of  neglecting  the  moral 
difference  between  the  profane  whose  triumph  and  joy 
he  declares  to  be  short,  and  the  good  man  whose 
career  is  full  of  years  and  honour.     We  may  almost 


XX.]  IGNORANT  CRITICISM  OF  LIFE.  245 

say  that  to  him  outward  success  is  the  only  mark  of 
inward  grace,  and  that  prosperous  hypocrisy  would  be 
mistaken  by  him  for  the  most  beautiful  piety.  His 
whole  creed  about  providence  and  retribution  is  such 
that  he  is  on  the  way  to  utter  confusion  of  mind. 
Why,  he  has  said  to  himself  that  Job  is  a  wicked  and 
false  man — Job  whose  striking  characteristic  is  out- 
spoken truthfulness,  whose  integrity  is  the  pride  of  his 
Divine  Master.  And  if  Zophar  once  accepts  it  as 
indisputable  that  Job  is  neither  good  nor  sincere,  what 
will  the  end  be  for  himself?  With  more  and  more 
assurance  he  will  judge  from  a  man's  prosperity  that  he 
is  righteous,  and  from  his  afflictions  that  he  is  a  repro- 
bate. He  will  twist  and  torture  facts  of  life  and  modes 
of  thought,  till  the  worship  of  property  will  become  his 
real  cult,  and  to  him  the  poor  will  of  necessity  seem 
worthless.  This  is  just  what  happened  in  Israel.  It 
is  just  what  slovenly  interpretation  of  the  Bible  and 
providence  has  brought  many  to  in  our  own  time. 
Side  by  side  with  a  doctrine  of  self-sacrifice  incredible 
and  mischievous,  there  is  a  doctrine  of  the  earthly 
reward  of  godliness — religion  profitable  for  the  life  that 
now  is,  in  the  way  of  filling  the  pockets  and  conducting 
to  eminent  seats — an  absurd  and  hurtful  doctrine,  for 
ever  being  taught  in  one  form  if  not  another,  and 
applied  all  along  the  line  of  human  life.  An  honest, 
virtuous  man,  is  he  sure  to  find  a  good  place  in  our 
society  ?  The  rich  broker  or  manufacturer,  because 
he  washes,  dresses,  and  has  twenty  servants  •  to  wait 
upon  him,  is  he  therefore  a  fine  soul  ?  Nobody  will 
say  so.  Yet  Christianity  is  so  little  understood  in 
some  quarters,  is  so  much  associated  with  the  error 
of  Zophar,  that  within  the  church  a  score  are  of  his 
opinion  for  one  who  is  in  Job's  perplexity.     Outside, 


246  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


the  proportion  is  much  the  same.  The  moral  ideas 
and  philanthropies  of  our  generation  are  perverted  by 
the  notion  that  no  one  is  succeeding  as  a  man  unless 
he  is  making  money  and  rising  in  the  social  scale.  So, 
independence  of  mind,  freedom,  integrity,  and  the 
courage  by  which  they  are  secured,  are  made  of  com- 
paratively little  account. 

It  will  be  said  that  if  things  were  rightly  ordered, 
Christian  ideas  prevailing  in  business,  in  legislation 
and  social  intercourse,  the  best  people  would  certainly 
be  in  the  highest  places  and  have  the  best  of  life,  and 
that,  meanwhile,  the  improvement  of  the  world  depends 
on  some  approximation  to  this  state  of  affairs.  That  is 
to  say,  spiritual  power  and  character  must  come  into 
visible  union  with  the  resources  of  the  earth  and 
possession  of  its  good  things,  otherwise  there  will  be 
no  moral  progress.  Divine  providence,  we  are  told, 
works  after  that  manner ;  and  the  reasoning  is  plausible 
enough  to  require  close  attention.  There  has  always 
been  peril  for  religion  in  association  with  external 
power  and  prestige — and  the  peril  of  religion  is  the 
peril  of  progress.  Will  spiritual  ideas  ever  urge  those 
whose  Hves  they  rule  to  seek  with  any  solicitude  the 
gifts  of  time?  Will  they  not,  on  the  other  hand, 
increasingly,  as  they  ought,  draw  the  desires  of  the 
best  away  from  what  is  immediate,  earthly,  and  in  all 
the  lower  senses  personal  ?  To  put  it  in  a  word,  must 
not  the  man  of  spiritual  mind  always  be  a  prophet,  that 
is,  a  critic  of  human  life  in  its  relations  to  the  present 
world  ?  Will  there  come  a  time  in  the  history  of  the 
race  when  the  criticism  of  the  prophet  shall  no  longer 
be  needed  and  his  mantle  will  fall  from  him  ?  That 
can  only  be  when  all  the  Lord's  people  are  prophets, 
when  everywhere  the  earthly  is  counted  as  nothing  in 


XX.]  IGNORANT  CRITICISM  OF  LIFE.  247 

view  of  the  heavenly,  when  men  will  seek  continually  a 
new  revelation  of  good,  and  the  criticism  of  Christ  shall 
be  so  acknowledged  that  no  one  shall  need  to  repeat 
after  Him,  "  How  can  ye  believe  which  receive  honour 
one  of  another,  and  seek  not  the  honour  that  cometh 
from  God  only  ? "  By  heavenly  means  alone  shall 
heavenly  ends  be  secured,  and  the  keen  pursuit  of  earthly 
good  will  never  bring  the  race  of  men  into  the  paradise 
where  Christ  reigns.  Outward  magnificence  is  neither 
a  symbol  nor  an  ally  of  spiritual  power.  It  hinders 
instead  of  aiding  the  soul  in  the  quest  of  what  is 
eternally  excellent,  touching  the  sensuous,  not  the 
divine,  in  man.  Christ  is  still,  as  in  the  days  of  His 
flesh,  utterly  indifferent  to  the  means  by  which  power 
and  distinction  are  gained  in  the  world.  The  spread 
of  His  ideas,  the  manifestation  of  His  Godhead,  the 
coming  of  His  Kingdom,  depend  not  the  least  on  the 
countenance  of  the  great  and  the  impression  produced 
on  rude  minds  by  the  shows  of  wealth.  The  first  task 
of  His  gospel  everywhere  is  to  correct  the  barbaric 
tastes  of  men ;  and  the  highest  and  best  in  a  spiritual 
age  will  be,  as  He  was,  thinkers,  seers  of  truth,  lovers 
of  God  and  man,  lowly  in  heart  and  life.  These  will 
express  the  penetrating  criticism  that  shall  move  the 
world. 

Zophar  discourses  of  one  who  is  openly  unjust  and 
rapacious.  He  is  candid  enough  to  admit  that,  for  a 
time,  the  schemes  and  daring  of  the  wicked  may 
succeed,  but  affirms  that,  though  his  head  may  "  reach 
to  the  clouds,"  it  is  only  that  he  may  be  cast  down. 

"  Knowest  thou  not  this  from  of  old, 
Since  man  was  placed  upon  earth, 
That  the  triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  short, 


248  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

And  the  joy  of  the  godless  but  for  a  moment? 

Though  his  excellency  ascend  to  heaven, 

And  his  head  reach  to  the  clouds. 

Yet  he  shall  perish  for  ever  like  his  own  dung  : 

They  who  saw  him  shall  say,  Where  is  he  ? 

Like  a  dream  he  shall  flee,  no  more  to  be  foimd. 

Yea,  he  shall  be  chased  away  like  a  night-vision.'' 

As  a  certainty,  based  on  facts  quite  evident  since  the 
beginning  of  human  history,  Zophar  presents  anew 
the  overthrow  of  the  evil-doer.  He  is  sure  that  the 
wicked  does  not  keep  his  prosperity  through  a  long 
life.  Such  a  thing  has  never  occurred  in  the  range  of 
human  experience.  The  godless  man  is  allowed,  no 
doubt,  to  lift  himself  up  for  a  time ;  but  his  day  is 
short.  Indeed  he  is  great  for  a  moment  only,  and  that 
in  appearance.  He  never  actually  possesses  the  good 
things  of  earth,  but  only  seems  to  possess  them.  Then 
in  the  hour  of  judgment  he  passes  like  a  dream  and 
perishes  for  ever.  The  affirmation  is  precisely  that 
which  has  been  made  again  and  again  ;  and  with  some 
curiosity  we  scan  the  words  of  Zophar  to  learn  what 
addition  he  makes  to  the  scheme  so  often  pressed. 

Sooth  to  say,  there  is  no  reasoning,  nothing  but 
affirmation.  He  discusses  no  doubtful  case,  enters  into 
no  careful  discrimination  of  the  virtuous  who  enjoy 
from  the  godless  who  perish,  makes  no  attempt  to 
explain  the  temporary  success  granted  to  the  wicked. 
The  man  he  describes  is  one  who  has  acquired  wealth 
by  unlawful  means,  who  conceals  his  wickedness, 
rolling  it  like  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue.  We 
are  told  further  that  he  has  oppressed  and  neglected 
the  poor  and  violently  taken  away  a  house,  and  he  has 
so  behaved  himself  that  all  the  miserable  watch  for  his 
downfall  with  hungry  eyes.  But  these  charges,  virtu- 
ally of  avarice,  rapacit}^,  and  inhumanity,  are  far  from 


XX.]  IGNORANT  CRITICISM  OF  LIFE.  249 

definite,  far  from  categorical.  Not  without  reason 
would  any  man  have  so  bad  a  reputation,  and  if  de- 
served it  would  ensure  the  combination  against  him 
of  all  right-minded  people.  But  men  may  be  evil- 
hearted  and  inhuman  who  are  not  rapacious ;  they 
may  be  vile  and  yet  not  given  to  avarice.  And 
Zophar's  account  of  the  ruin  of  the  profane,  though  he 
makes  it  a  Divine  act,  pictures  the  rising  of  society 
against  one  whose  conduct  is  no  longer  endurable — 
a  robber  chief,  the  tyrant  of  a  valley.  His  argument 
fails  in  this,  that  though  the  history  of  the  proud  evil- 
doer's destruction  were  perfectly  true  to  fact,  it  would 
apply  to  a  very  few  only  amongst  the  population, — one 
in  ten  thousand, — leaving  the  justice  of  Divine  pro- 
vidence in  greater  doubt  than  ever,  because  the  avarice 
and  selfishness  of  smaller  men  are  not  shown  to  have 
corresponding  punishment,  are  not  indeed  so  much 
as  considered.  Zophar  describes  one  whose  bold  and 
flagrant  iniquity  rouses  the  resentment  of  those  not 
particularly  honest  themselves,  not  religious,  nor  even 
humane,  but  merely  aware  of  their  own  danger  from  his 
violent  rapacity.  A  man,  however,  may  be  avaricious 
who  is  not  strong,  may  have  the  will  to  prey  on  others 
but  not  the  power.  The  real  distinction,  therefore,  of 
Zophar's  criminal  is  his  success  in  doing  what  many  of 
those  he  oppresses  and  despoils  would  do  if  they  were 
able,  and  the  picturesque  passage  leaves  no  deep 
moral  impression.  We  read  it  and  seem  to  feel  that 
the  overthrow  of  this  evil-doer  is  one  of  the  rare  and 
happy  instances  of  poetical  justice  which  sometimes 
occur  in  real  life,  but  not  so  frequently  as  to  make  a 
man  draw  back  in  the  act  of  oppressing  a  poor  de- 
pendant or  robbing  a  helpless  widow. 

In   all   sincerity  Zophar  speaks,   with  righteous    in- 


250  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

dignation  against  th"e  man  whose  ruin  he  paints,  per- 
suaded that  he  is  following,  step  for  step,  the  march 
of  Divine  judgment.  His  eye  kindles,  his  voice  rings 
with  poetic  exultation. 

"  He  hath  swallozued  down  riches  ;  he  shall  vomit  them  again  : 
God  shall  cast  them  out  of  his  belly. 
He  shall  suck  the  poison  of  asps; 
The  viper  s  tongtic  shall  slay  him. 
He  shall  not  look  upon  the  rivers, 
The  flowing  streams  of  honey  and  butter. 
That  which  he  toiled  for  shall  he  restore, 
And  shall  not  sivallow  it  down  ; 
Not  according  to  the  wealth  he  has  gotten 
Shall  he  have  enjoyment.   .  .  . 
There  was  nothing  left  that  he  devoured  not ; 
Therefore  his  prosperity  shall  not  abide. 
In  his  richest  abundance  he  shall  be  in  straits  ; 
The  hand  of  every  miserable  one  shall  come  upon,  hin^t. 
When  he  is  about  to  fill  his  belly 
God  shall  cast  the  fury  of  His  wrath  upon  him 
And  rain  upon  him  his  food." 

He  has  succeeded  for  a  time,  concealing  or  fortifying 
himself  among  the  mountains.  He  has  store  of  silver 
and  gold  and  garments  taken  by  violence,  of  cattle  and 
sheep  captured  in  the  plain.  But  the  district  is  roused. 
Little  by  little  he  is  driven  back  into  the  uninhabited 
desert.  His  supphes  are  cut  off  and  he  is  brought  to 
extremity.  His  food  becomes  to  him  as  the  gall  of 
asps.  With  all  his  ill-gotten  wealth  he  is  in  straits, 
for  he  is  hunted  from  place  to  place.  Not  for  him  now 
the  luxury  of  the  green  oasis  and  the  coolness  of 
flowing  streams.  He  is  an  outlaw,  in  constant  danger 
of  discovery.  His  children  wander  to  places  where 
they  are  not  known  and  beg  for  bread.  Reduced 
to  abject  fear,  he  restores  the  goods  he  had  taken  by 
violence,  trying  to  buy  off  the  enmity  of  his  pursuers. 


IGNORANT  CRITICISM  OF  LIFE.  251 


Then  come    the  last   skirmish,  the  clash  of  weapons, 
ignominious  death. 

'^  He  shall  Jlee  from  the  iron  weapon, 
And  the  bozv  of  brass  shall  pierce  him  through. 
He  draivcth  it  forth  ;  it  cometh  out  of  his  body  : 
Yea,  the  glittering  shaft  cometh  out  of  his  gall. 
Terrors  are  upon  him, 
All  darkness  is  laid  up  for  his  treasures  ; 
A  fire  not  blown  shall  consimie  hint. 
It  shall  devour  him  that  is  left  in  his  tent. 
The  heaven  shall  reveal  his  iniquity. 
And  the  earth  shall  rise  against  him. 
The  increase  of  his  house  shall  depart, 
Be  washed  away  in  the  day  of  His  wrath. 
This  is  the  lot  of  a  zvicked  man  from  God, 
And  the  heritage  appointed  to  him  by  God.'' 

Vain  is  resistance  when  he  is  brought  to  bay  by  his 
enemies.  A  moment  of  overwhelming  terror,  and  he  is 
gone.  His  tent  blazes  up  and  is  consumed,  as  if  the 
breath  of  God  made  hot  the  avenging  flame.  Within 
it  his  wife  and  children  perish.  Heaven  seems  to  have 
called  for  his  destruction  and  earth  to  have  obeyed  the 
summons.  So  the  craft  and  strength  of  the  free-booter, 
living  on  the  flocks  and  harvests  of  industrious  people, 
are  measured  vainly  against  the  indignation  of  God, 
who  has  ordained  the  doom  of  wickedness. 

A  powerful  word-picture.  Yet  if  Zophar  and  the 
rest  taught  such  a  doctrine  of  retribution,  and,  put  to 
it,  could  find  no  other  ;  if  they  were  in  the  way  of 
saying,  ^*  This  is  the  lot  of  a  wicked  man  from  God," 
how  far  away  must  Divine  judgment  have  seemed 
from  ordinar}^  life,  from  the  falsehoods  daily  spoken, 
the  hard  words  and  blows  dealt  to  the  slave,  the 
jealousies  and  selfishnesses  of  the  harem.  Under  the 
pretext  of  showing  the  righteous  Judge,  Zophar  makes 
it   impossible,  or    next    to  impossible,    to    realise   His 


252  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

presence  and  authority.     Men  must  be  stirred  up  on 
God's  behalf  or  His  judicial  anger  will  not  be  felt. 

It  is  however  when  we  apply  the  picture  to  the  case 
of  Job  that  we  see  its  falsehood.  Against  the  facts 
of  his  career  Zophar's  account  of  Divine  judgment 
stands  out  as  flat  heresy,  a  foul  slander  charged  on  the 
providence  of  God.  For  he  means  that  Job  wore  in 
his  own  settlement  the  hypocritical  dress  of  piety  and 
benevolence  and  must  have  elsewhere  made  brigandage 
his  trade,  that  his  servants  who  died  by  the  sword  of 
Chaldseans  and  Sabeans  and  the  fire  of  heaven  had 
been  his  army  of  rievers,  that  the  cause  of  his  ruin  was 
heaven's  intolerance  and  earth's  detestation  of  so  vile  a 
life.  Zophar  describes  poetic  justice,  and  reasons  back 
from  it  to  Job.  Now  it  becomes  flagrant  injustice 
against  God  and  man.  We  cannot  argue  from  what 
sometimes  is  to  what  must  be.  Although  Zophar  had 
taken  in  hand  to  convict  one  really  and  unmistakably 
a  miscreant,  truth  alone  would  have  served  the  cause 
of  righteousness.  But  he  assumes,  conjectures,  and 
is  immeasurably  unjust  and  cruel  to  his  friend. 


XVIII. 

ARE   THE    WAYS   OF  THE  LORD  EQUAL? 
Job   speaks.      Chap.  xxi. 

WITH  less  of  personal  distress  and  a  more  col- 
lected mind  than  before  Job.  begins  a  reply  to 
Zophar.  His  brave  hope  of  vindication  has  fortified 
his  soul  and  is  not  without  effect  upon  his  bodily  slate. 
The  quietness  of  tone  in  this  final  address  of  the  second 
colloquy  contrasts  with  his  former  agitation  and  the 
growing  eagerness  of  the  friends  to  convict  him  of  wrong. 
True,  he  has  still  to  speak  of  facts  of  human  life  troublous 
and  inscrutable.  Where  they  lie  he  must  look,  and 
terror  seizes  him,  as  if  he  moved  on  the  edge  of  chaos. 
It  is,  however,  no  longer  his  own  controversy  with  God 
that  disquiets  him.  For  the  time  he  is  able  to  leave 
that  to  the  day  of  revelation.  But  seeing  a  vaster 
field  in  which  righteousness  must  be  revealed,  he 
compels  himself,  as  it  were,  to  face  the  difficulties  which 
are  encountered  in  that  survey.  The  friends  have 
throughout  the  colloquy  presented  in  varying  pictures 
the  offensiveness  of  the  wicked  man  and  his  sure  de- 
struction. Job,  extending  his  view  over  the  field  they 
have  professed  to  search,  sees  the  facts  in  another  light. 
While  his  statement  is  in  the  way  of  a  direct  negative 
to  Zophar's  theory,  he  has  to  point  out  what  seems 
dreadful  injustice  in  the  providence  of  God.  He  is  not 
however,  drawn  anew  into  the  tone  of  revolt. 

253 


254  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

The  opening  words  are  as  usual  expostulatory,  but 
with  a  ring  of  vigour.  Job  sets  the  arguments  of  his 
friends  aside  and  the  only  demand  he  makes  now  is  for 
their  attention. 

"  Hear  diligently  my  speech^ 
And  let  that  be  your  consolations. 
Suffer  me  that  I  may  speak  ; 
And  after  I  have  spoken,  mock  on. 
As  for  me,  is  my  complaint  of  tnan  ? 
And  why  should  I  not  be  impatient  ?  " 

What  he  has  said  hitherto  has  had  little  effect  upon 
them ;  what  he  is  to  say  may  have  none.  But  he  will 
speak ;  and  afterwards,  if  Zophar  finds  that  he  can 
maintain  his  theory,  why,. he  must  keep  to  it  and  mock 
on.  At  present  the  speaker  is  in  the  mood  of  disdain- 
ing false  judgment.  He  quite  understands  the  con- 
clusion come  to  by  the  friends.  They  have  succeeded 
in  wounding  him  time  after  time.  But  what  presses 
upon  his  mind  is  the  state  of  the  world  as  it  really 
is.  Another  impatience  than  of  human  falsehood  urges 
him  to  speak.  He  has  returned  upon  the  riddle  of  life 
he  gave  Zophar  to  read — why  the  tents  of  robbers 
prosper  and  they  that  provoke  God  are  secure  (chap, 
xii.  6).  Suppose  the  three  let  him  alone  for  a  while 
and  consider  the  question  largely,  in  its  whole  scope. 
They  shall  consider  it,  for,  certainly,  the  robber  chief 
may  be  seen  here  and  there  in  full  swing  of  success, 
with  his  children  about  him,  gaily  enjoying  the  fruit  of 
sin,  and  as  fearless  as  if  the  Almighty  were  his  special 
protector.  Here  is  something  that  needs  clearing  up. 
Is  it  not  enough  to  make  a  strong  man  shake  ? 

"  Mark  me,  and  be  astonished, 
And  lay  the  hand  upon  the  mouth. 
Even  while  I  remember  I  am  troubled, 
And  trembling  taketh  hold  of  my  flesh — 


xxi.]        ARE   THE    WAYS   OF  THE  LORD  EQUAL?       255 

Wherefore  do  the  wicked  live, 

Become  old,  yea,  wax  mighty  in  power  ? 

Their  seed  is  settled  with  them  in  their  sight, 

And  their  offspring  before  their  eyes  ; 

Their  houses  are  in  peace,  ivithout  fear, 

And  the  rod  of  God  is  not  upon  them.  ... 

They  send  forth  their  little  ones  like  a  flock, 

And  their  cJiildren  dance  ; 

They  sing  to  the  timbrel  and  lute, 

And  rejoice  at  the  sound  of  the  pipe. 

They  spend  their  days  in  ease, 

And  in  a  moment  go  down  to  Sheol. 

Yet  they  said  to  God,  Depart  from  us. 

For  we  desire  not  to  know  Thy  ways. 

What  is  Shaddai  that  we  shoidd  serve  Him  ? 

And  what  profit  should  we  have  if  we  pray  unto  Him  ?  " 

Contrast  the  picture  here  with  those  which  Bildad  and 
Zophar  painted — and  where  Hes  the  truth?  Sufficiently 
on  Job's  side  to  make  one  who  is  profoundly  interested 
in  the  question  of  Divine  righteousness  stand  appalled. 
There  was  an  error  of  judgment  inseparable  from  that 
early  stage  of  human  education  in  which  vigour  and  the 
gains  of  vigour  counted  for  more  than  goodness  and  the 
gains  of  goodness,  and  this  error  clouding  the  thought 
of  Job  made  him  tremble  for  his  faith.  Is  nature 
God's  ?  Does  God  arrange  the  affairs  of  this  world  ? 
Why  then,  under  His  rule,  can  the  godless  have  enjoy- 
ment, and  those  who  deride  the  Almighty  feast  on  the 
fat  things  of  His  earth  ?  Job  has  sent  into  the  future 
a  single  penetrating  look.  He  has  seen  the  possibility 
of  vindication,  but  not  the  certainty  of  retribution.  The 
underworld  into  which  the  evil-doer  descends  in  a 
moment,  without  protracted  misery,  appears  to  Job  no 
hell  of  torment.  It  is  a  region  of  reduced,  incomplete 
existence,  not  of  penalty.  The  very  clearness  wath 
which  he  saw  vindication  for  himself,  that  is,  for  the 
good   man,   makes  it   needful  to  see   the  wrong-doer 


256  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


judged  and  openly  condemned.  Where  then  shall  this 
be  done  ?  The  writer,  with  all  his  genius,  could  only 
throw  one  vivid  gleam  beyond  the  present.  He  could 
not  frame  a  new  idea  of  Sheol,  nor,  passing  its  cloud 
confines,  reach  the  thought  of  personality  continuing 
in  acute  sensations  either  of  joy  or  pain.  The  ungodly 
ought  to  feel  the  heavy  hand  of  Divine  justice  in  the 
present  state  of  being.  But  he  does  not.  Nature 
makes  room  for  him  and  his  children,  for  their  gay 
dances  and  life-long  hilarity.  Heaven  does  not  frown. 
'^  The  wicked  live,  become  old,  yea,  wax  mighty  in 
power ;  their  houses  are  in  peace,  without  fear." 

From  the  climax  of  chap.  xix.  the  speeches  of  Job 
seem  to  fall  away  instead  of  advancing.  The  author 
had  one  brilliant  journey  into  the  unseen,  but  the  peak 
he  reached  could  not  be  made  a  new  point  of  departure. 
Knowledge  he  did  not  possess  was  now  required. 
He  saw  before  him  a  pathless  ocean  where  no  man 
had  shown  the  way,  and  inspiration  seems  to  have 
failed  him.  His  power  lay  in  remarkably  keen  analysis 
and  criticism  of  known  theological  positions  and  in 
glowing  poetic  sense.  His  inspiration  working  through 
these  persuaded  him  that  everywhere  God  is  the  Holy 
and  True.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  condem- 
nation of  the  evil  could  have  seemed  to  him  of  less 
importance  than  vindication  of  the  good.  Our  con- 
clusion therefore  must  be  that  a  firm  advance  into  the 
other  life  was  not  for  genius  like  his,  nor  for  human 
genius  at  its  highest.  One  more  than  man  must  speak 
of  the  great  judgment  and  what  lies  beyond. 

Clearly  Job  sees  the  unsolved  enigma  of  the  godless 
man's  prosperous  life,  states  it,  and  stands  trembling. 
Regarding  it  what  have  other  thinkers  said  ?  ''  If  the 
law  of  all  creation  were  justice,"  says  John  Stuart  Mill, 


xxi.]        ARE   THE   WAYS   OF  THE  LORD  EQUAL?        257 

"  and  the  Creator  omnipotent,  then  in  whatever  amount 
suffering  and  happiness  might  be  dispensed  to  the 
world,  each  person's  share  of  them  would  be  exactly 
proportioned  to  that  person's  good  or  evil  deeds ;  no 
human  being  would  have  a  worse  lot  than  another 
without  worse  deserts  ;  accident  or  favouritism  would 
have  no  part  in  such  a  world,  but  every  human  life 
would  be  the  playing  out  of  a  drama  constructed  like 
a  perfect  moral  tale.  No  one  is  able  to  blind  himself 
to  the  fact  that  the  world  we  live  in  is  totally  different 
from  this."  Emerson,  again,  facing  this  problem, 
repudiates  the  doctrine  that  judgment  is  not  executed 
in  this  world.  He  affirms  that  there  is  a  fallacy  in 
the  concession  that  the  bad  are  successful,  that  justice 
is  not  done  now.  '^  Every  ingenuous  and  aspiring 
soul,"  he  says,  "  leaves  the  doctrine  behind  him  in  his 
own  experience ;  and  all  men  feel  sometimes  the  false- 
hood which  they  cannot  demonstrate."  His  theory 
is  that  there  is  balance  or  compensation  everywhere. 
'*  Life  invests  itself  with  inevitable  conditions,  which 
the  unwise  seek  to  dodge,  w^hich  one  and  another  brags 
that  he  does  not  know,  that  they  do  not  touch  him  ;— 
but  the  brag  is  on  his  lips,  the  conditions  are  in  his 
soul.  If  he  escapes  them  in  one  part,  they  attack  him 
in  anothermore  vital  part.  .  .  .  The  ingenuity  of  man 
has  always  been  dedicated  to  the  solution  of  one 
problem, — how  to  detach  the  sensual  sweet,  the  sensual 
strong,  the  sensual  bright,  from  the  moral  sweet,  the 
moral  deep,  the  moral  fair  ;  that  is,  again,  to  contrive 
to  cut  clean  off  this  upper  surface  so  thin  as  to  leave  it 
bottomless  ;  to  get  a  one  end,  without  an  other  end.  .  .  . 
This  dividing  and  detaching  is  steadily  counteracted. 
Pleasure  is  taken  out  of  pleasant  things,  profit  out  of 
profitable  things,  power  out  of  strong  things,  so  soon  as 

W 


258  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

we  seek  to  separate  them  from  the  whole.  We  can  no 
more  halve  things  and  get  the  sensual  good,  by  itself, 
than  we  can  get  an  inside  that  shall  have  no  outside, 
or  a  light  without  a  shadow.  .  .  .  For  everything  you 
have  missed,  you  have  gained  something  else,  and  for 
everything  you  gain  you  lose  something.  If  the 
gatherer  gathers  too  much,  nature  takes  out  of  the  man 
what  she  puts  into  his  chest ;  swells  the  estate  but 
kills  the  owner.  .  .  .  We  feel  defrauded  of  the  retribu- 
tion due  to  evil  acts,  because  the  criminal  adheres  to 
his  vice  and  contumacy,  and  does  not  come  to  a  crisis 
or  judgment  anywhere  in  visible  nature.  There  is  no 
stunning  confutation  of  his  nonsense  before  men  and 
angels.  Has  he  therefore  outwitted  the  law  ?  Inas- 
much as  he  carries  the  malignity  and  the  lie  with  him, 
he  so  far  deceases  from  nature.  In  some  manner  there 
will  be  a  demonstration  of  the  wrong  to  the  under- 
standing also  ;  but,  should  we  not  see  it,  this  deadly 
deduction  makes  square  the  account."*  The  argument 
reaches  far  beneath  that  superficial  condemnation  of 
the  order  of  providence  which  disfigures  Mr.  Mill's 
essay  on  Nature.  So  far  as  it  goes,  it  illuminates  the 
present  stage  of  human  existence.  The  light,  however, 
is  not  sufficient,  for  we  cannot  consent  to  the  theory 
that  in  an  ideal  scheme,  a  perfect  or  eternal  state,  he 
who  would  have  holiness  must  sacrifice  power,  and  he 
who  would  be  true  must  be  content  to  be  despised. 
There  is,  we  cannot  doubt,  a  higher  law  ;  for  this  does 
not  in  any  sense  apply  to  the  life  of  God  Himself  In 
the  discipline  which  prepares  for  liberty,  there  must  be 
restraints  and  limitations,  gain — that  is,  development — 
by  renunciation  ;  earthly  ends  must  be  subordinated  to 

*  Emerson,  Essay  III.  "  Compensation." 


xxi.]        ARE   THE   WAYS   OF  THE  LORD  EQUAL?       259 

spiritual ;  sacrifices  must  be  made.  But  the  present 
state  does  not  exhaust  the  possibilities  of  development 
nor  close  the  history  of  man.  There  is  a  kingdom 
out  of  which  shall  be  taken  all  things  that  offend.  To 
Emerson's  compensations  must  be  added  the  compensa- 
tion of  Heaven.  Still  he  lifts  the  problem  out  of  the 
deep  darkness  which  troubled  Job. 

And  with  respect  to  the  high  position  and  success 
bad  men  are  allowed  to  enjoy,  another  writer,  Bushnell, 
well  points  out  that  permission  of  their  opulence  and 
power  by  God  aids  the  development  of  moral  ideas. 
"  It  is  simply  letting  society  and  man  be  what  they  are, 
to  show  what  they  are."  The  retributive  stroke,  swift 
and  visible,  is  not  needed  to  declare  this.  ''  If  one  is 
hard  upon  the  poor,  harsh  to  children,  he  makes,  or 
may,  a  very  great  discovery  of  himself.  What  is  in 
him  is  mirrored  forth  by  his  acts,  and  distinctly  mirrored 
in  them.  ...  If  he  is  unjust,  passionate,  severe,  re- 
vengeful, jealous,  dishonest,  and  supremely  selfish,  he 
is  in  just  that  scale  of  society  or  social  relationship 
that  brings  him  out  to  himself.  .  .  .  Evil  is  scarcely  to 
be  known  as  evil  till  it  takes  the  condition  of  authority. 
We  do  not  understand  it  till  we  see  what  kind  of  god 
it  will  make,  and  by  what  sort  of  rule  it  will  manage  its 
empire.  .  .  .  Just  here  all  the  merit  of  God's  plan,  as 
regards  the  permission  of  power  in  the  hands  of  wicked 
men,  will  be  found  to  hinge  ;  namely,  on  the  fact  that 
evil  is  not  only  revealed  in  its  baleful  presence  and 
agency,  but  the  peoples  and  ages  are  put  heaving 
against  it  and  struggling  after  deliverance  from  it."  * 
It  was,  we  say.  Job's  difficulty  that  against  the  new 
conception  of  Divine  righteousness   which  he   sought 

*  Bushnell,  "  Moral  Uses  of  Dark  Things." 


26o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


the  early  idea  stood  opposed  that  Hfe  meant  vigour 
mainly  in  the  earthly  range.  During  a  long  period  of 
the  world's  history  this  belief  was  dominant,  and  virtue 
signified  the  strength  of  man's  arm,  his  courage  in  con- 
flict, rather  than  his  truth  in  judgment  and  his  purity 
of  heart.  The  outward  gains  corresponding  to  that 
early  virtue  were  the  proof  of  the  worth  of  life.  And 
even  when  the  moral  qualities  began  to  be  esteemed, 
and  a  man  was  partly  measured  by  the  quality  of  his 
soul,  still  the  tests  of  outv/ard  success  and  the  gains  of 
the  inferior  virtue  continued  to  be  applied  to  his  life. 
Hence  the  perturbation  of  Job  and,  to  some  extent,  the 
false  judgment  of  providence  quoted  from  a  modern 
writer. 

But  the  chapter  we  are  considering  shows,  if  we 
rightly  interpret  the  obscure  i6th  verse,  that  the  author 
tried  to  get  beyond  the  merely  sensuous  and  earthly 
reckoning.  Those  prospered  who  denied  the  authority 
of  God  and  put  aside  religion  with  the  rudest  scepticism. 
There  was  no  good  in  prayer,  they  said ;  it  brought  no 
gain.  The  Almighty  was  nothing  to  them.  Without 
thought  of  His  commands  they  sought  their  profit  and 
their  pleasure,  and  found  all  they  desired.  Looking 
steadfastly  at  their  life.  Job  sees  its  hollowness,  and 
abruptly  exclaims : — 

"  Ha  !  their  good  is  not  in  their  hand  : 
The  counsel  of  the  wicked  be  far  from  met " 

Good  !  was  that  good  which  they  grasped — their 
abundance,  their  treasure  ?  Were  they  to  be  called 
blessed  because  their  children  danced  to  the  lute  and 
the  pipe  and  they  enjoyed  the  best  earth  could  provide  ? 
The  real  good  of  life  was  not  theirs.  They  had  not 
God ;    they    had    not    the    exultation    of  trusting   and 


xxi.]  ■      ARE   THE   IVAYS   OF   THE  LORD  EQUAL?        261 


serving  Him ;  they  had  not  the  good  conscience 
towards  God  and  man  which  is  the  crown  of  life.  The 
man  lying  in  disease  and  shame  would  not  exchange 
his  lot  for  theirs. 

But  Job  must  argue  still  against  his  friends'  belief 
that  the  wicked  are  visited  with  the  judgment  of  the 
Most  High  in  the  loss  of  their  earthly  possessions. 
"  The  triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  short,"  said  Zophar, 
"and  the  joy  of  the  godless  but  for  a  moment."  Is  it 
so? 

*•  How  often  is  the  lamp  of  the  wicked  put  out  ? 
That  their  calamity  cometh  upon  theyn  ? 
That  God  distributeth  sorrows  in  His  anger  ? 
That  they  are  as  stubble  before  the  wind, 
And  as  chaff  that  the  storm  carrieth  away  ?  " 

One  in  a  thousand,  Job  may  admit,  has  the  light 
extinguished  in  his  tent  and  is  swept  out  of  the  world. 
But  is  it  the  rule  or  the  exception  that  such  visible 
judgment  falls  even  on  the  robber  chief?  The  first 
psalm  has  it  that  the  wicked  are  "  like  the  chaff  which 
the  wind  driveth  away."  The  words  of  that  chant  may 
have  been  in  the  mind  of  the  author.  If  so,  he  disputes 
the  doctrine.  And  further  he  rejects  with  contempt 
the  idea  that  though  a  transgressor  himself  lives  long 
and  enjoys  to  the  end,  his  children  after  him  may  bear 
his  punishment. 

"  Ye  say,  God  layeth  up  his  iniquity  for  his  children. 
Let  Him  recompense  it  unto  himself  that  he  may  know  it. 
Let  his  own  eyes  see  his  destructio)i, 
And  let  him  drink  of  the  wrath  of  Shaddai. 
For  what  pleasure  hath  he  in  his  house  after  him, 
When  the  number  of  his  moons  is  cut  off  in  the  midst  ?  " 

The  righteousness  Job  is  in  quest  of  will  not  be 
satisfied  with  visitation  of  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers 


262  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

upon  the  children.  He  will  not  accept  the  proverb 
which  Ezekiel  afterwards  repudiated,  "  The  fathers 
have  eaten  sour  grapes,  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on 
edge."  He  demands  that  the  ways  of  God  shall  be 
equal,  that  the  soul  that  sinneth  shall  bear  its  punish- 
ment. Is  it  anything  to  a  wicked  man  that  his 
children  are  scattered  and  have  to  beg  their  bread 
when  he  has  passed  away  ?  A  man  grossly  selfish 
would  not  be  vexed  by  the  afQiction  of  his  family  even 
if,  down  in  Sheol,  he  could  know  of  it.  What  Zophar 
has  to  prove  is  that  every  man  who  has  lived  a  godless 
hfe  is  made  to  drink  the  cup  of  Shaddai's  indignation. 
Though  he  trembles  in  sight  of  the  truth,  Job  will  press 
it  on  those  who  argue  falsely  for  God. 

And  with  the  sense  of  the  inscrutable  purposes  of 
the  Most  High  burdening  his  soul  he  proceeds — 

"  Shall  any  teach  God  knowledge  ? 
Seeing  He  judgeth  those  that  are  high  ?  " 

Easy  was  it  to  insist  that  thus  or  thus  Divine  pro- 
vidence ordained.  But  the  order  of  things  established 
by  God  is  not  to  be  forced  into  harmony  with  a  human 
scheme  of  judgment.  He  who  rules  in  the  heights  of 
heaven  knows  how  to  deal  with  men  on  earth ;  and  for 
them  to  teach  Him  knowledge  is  at  once  arrogant  and 
absurd.  The  facts  are  evident,  must  be  accepted  and 
reckoned  with  in  all  submission ;  especially  must  his 
friends  consider  the  fact  of  death,  how  death  comes, 
and  they  will  then  find  themselves  unable  to  declare 
the  law  of  the  Divine  government. 

As  yet,  even  to  Job,  though  he  has  gazed  beyond 
death,  its  mystery  is  oppressive  ;  and  he  is  right  in 
urging  that  mystery  upon  his  friends  to  convict  them  of 
ignorance   and  presumption.     Distinctions  they  affirm 


xxi.]        ARE   THE   WAYS   OF  THE  LORD  EQUAL?       263 

to  lie  between  the  good  and  the  wicked  are  not  made 
by  God  in  appointing  the  hour  of  death.  One  is  called 
away  in  his  strong  and  lusty  manhood  ;  another  lingers 
till  life  becomes  bitter  and  all  the  bodily  functions  are 
impaired.  "Alike  they  lie  down  in  the  dust  and  the 
worms  cover  them."  The  thought  is  full  of  suggestion  ; 
but  Job  presses  on,  returning  for  a  moment  to  the  false 
charges  against  himself  that  he  may  bring  a  final 
argument  to  bear  on  his  accusers. 

*^  Behold,  I  know  your  thoughts, 
And  the  devices  ye  wrongfully  hnagine  against  me. 
For  ye  say,  Where  is  the  house  of  the  prince  ? 
And,  Where  the  tents  in  which  the  wicked  dwelt? 
Have  ye  not  asked  them  that  go  by  the  way  ? 
And  do  ye  not  regard  their  tokens — 
That  the  wicked  is  spared  in  the  day  of  destruction. 
That  they  are  led  forth  in  the  day  of  wrath  ?  '' 

So  far  from  being  overwhelmed  in  calamity  the  evil 
doer  is  considered,  saved  as  by  an  unseen  hand. 
Whose  hand  ?  My  house  is  wasted,  my  habitations 
are  desolate,  I  am  in  extremity,  ready  to  die.  True  : 
but  those  who  go  up  and  down  the  land  would  teach 
you  to  look  for  a  different  end  to  my  career  if  I  had 
been  the  proud  transgressor  you  wrongly  assume  me 
to  have  been.  I  would  have  found  a  way  of  safety 
when  the  storm-clouds  gathered  and  the  fire  of  heaven 
burned.  My  prosperity  would  scarcely  have  been 
interrupted.  If  I  had  been  what  you  say,  not  one  of 
you  would  have  dared  to  charge  me  with  crimes  against 
men  or  impiety  towards  God.  You  would  have  been 
trembling  now  before  me.  The  power  of  an  un- 
scrupulous man  is  not  easily  broken.  He  faces  fate, 
braves  and  overcomes  the  judgment  of  society. 

And  society  accepts  his  estimate  of  himself,  counts 
him    happy, — pays   him    honour   at   his   death.      The 


264  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

scene  at  his  funeral  confutes  the  specious  interpretation 
of  providence  that  has  been  so  often  used  as  a  weapon 
against  Job.  Perhaps  Ehphaz,  Bildad,  and  Zophar 
know  something  of  obsequies  paid  to  a  prosperous 
tyrant,  so  powerful  that  they  dared  not  deny  him 
homage  even  when  he  lay  on  his  bier.  Who  shall 
repay  the  evil-doer  what  he  hath  done  ? 

"  Yea,  he  is  borne  to  the  grave, 
And  they  keep  watch  over  his  tomb  ; 
The  clods  of  the  valley  are  sweet  to  him. 
And  all  men  draw  after  him, 
As  without  nnmber  they  go  before  him.'''' 

It  is  the  gathering  of  a  country-side,  the  tumultuous 
procession,  a  vast  disorderly  crowd  before  the  bier,  a 
multitude  after  it  surging  along  to  the  place  of  tombs. 
And  there,  in  nature's  greenest  heart,  where  the  clods 
of  the  valley  are  sweet,  they  make  his  grave — and 
there  as  over  the  dust  of  one  of  the  honourable  of 
the  earth  they  keep  watch.  Too  true  is  the  picture. 
Power  begets  fear  and  fear  enforces  respect.  With 
tears  and  lamentations  the  Arabs  went,  with  all  the 
trappings  of  formal  grief  moderns  may  be  seen  in 
crowds  following  the  corpse  of  one  who  had  neither  a 
fine  soul  nor  a  good  heart,  nothing  but  money  and 
success  to  commend  him  to  his  fellow-men. 

So  the  writer  ends  the  second  act  of  the  drama,  and 
the  controversy  remains  much  where  it  was.  The 
meaning  of  calamity,  the  nature  of  the  Divine  govern- 
ment of  the  world  are  not  extracted.  This  only  is 
made  clear,  that  the  opinion  maintained  by  the  three 
friends  cannot  stand.  It  is  not  true  that  joy  and  wealth 
are  the  rewards  of  virtuous  life.  It  is  not  always 
the  case  that  the  evil-doer  is  overcome  by  temporal 


xxi.]        ARE   THE   WAYS   OF   THE  LORD  EQUAL?       265 

disaster.  It  is  true  that  to  good  and  bad  alike  death 
is  appointed,  and  together  they  lie  down  in  the  dust. 
It  is  true  that  even  then  the  good  man's  grave  may  be 
forsaken  in  the  desert,  while  the  impious  may  have 
a  stately  sepulchre.  A  new  way  is  made  for  human 
thought  in  the  exposure  of  the  old  illusions  and  the 
opening  up  of  the  facts  of  existence.  Hebrew  religion 
has  a  fresh  point  of  departure,  a  clearer  view  of  the 
nature  and  end  of  all  things.  The  thought  of  the  world 
receives  a  spiritual  germ ;  there  is  a  making  ready 
for  Him  who  said,  ''  A  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the 
abundance  of  the  things  which  he  possesseth/'  and 
^'  What  doth  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world, 
and  forfeit  his  life  ?  "  When  we  know  what  the  earthly 
cannot  do  for  us  we  are  prepared  for  the  gospel  of  the 
spiritual  and  for  the  living  word. 


THE   THIRD   COLLOQUY. 


267 


XIX. 

DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL   ERROR. 
Eliphaz  speaks.     Chap.  xxii. 

THE  second  colloquy  has  practically  exhausted  the 
subject  of  debate  between  Job  and  his  friends. 
The  three  have  really  nothing  more  to  say  in  the  way 
of  argument  or  awful  example.  It  is  only  Eliphaz  who 
tries  to  clinch  the  matter  by  directly  accusing  Job  of 
base  and  cowardly  offences.  Bildad  recites  what  may 
be  called  a  short  ode,  and  Zophar,  if  he  speaks  at  all, 
simply  repeats  himself  as  one  determined  if  possible  to 
have  the  last  word. 

And  why  this  third  round  ?  While  it  has  definite 
marks  of  its  own  and  the  closing  speeches  of  Job  are 
important  as  exhibiting  his  state  of  mind,  another 
motive  seems  to  be  required.  And  the  following  may 
be  suggested.  A  last  indignity  offered,  last  words  of 
hard  judgment  spoken.  Job  enters  upon  a  long  review 
of  his  life,  with  the  sense  of  being  victorious  in  argu- 
ment, yet  with  sorrow  rather  than  exultation  because 
his  prayers  are  still  unanswered  ;  and  during  all  this 
time  the  appearance  of  the  Almighty  is  deferred. 
The  impression  of  protracted  delay  deepens  through 
the  two  hundred  and  twenty  sentences  of  the  third 
colloquy  in  which,  one  may  say,  all  the  resources  of 
poetry  are  exhausted.     A   tragic  sense  of  the  silence 

269 


270  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

God  keeps  is  felt  to  hang  over  the  drama,  as  it  hangs 
over  human  life.     A  man   vainly   strives   to   repel   the 
calumnies  that  almost  break  his  heart.     His  accusers 
advance  from  innuendo  to  insolence.     He  seeks  in  the 
way  of  earnest  thought  escape  from  their  false  reasoning ; 
he  appeals  from  men  to  God,  from  God  in  nature  and 
providence  to  God  in  supreme  and  glorious  righteous- 
ness  behind    the    veil    of  sense    and    time.     Unheard 
apparently  by  the  Almighty,  he  goes  back    upon    his 
life  and  rehearses  the  proofs  of  his  purity,  generosity, 
and  faith  ;  but  the  shadow  remains.     It  is  the  trial  of 
human  patience  and  the  evidence  that  neither  a  man's 
judgment  of  his  own  life  nor  the  judgment  expressed 
by  other  men  can  be  final.     God  must  decide,  and  for 
His  decision  men  must  wait.     The  author  has  felt  in 
his  own  history  this  delay  of  heavenly  judgment,  and 
he  brings  it  out  in  his  drama.     He  has  also  seen  that 
on  this  side  death  there  can  be  no  final  reading  of  the 
judgment  of  God  on  a  human  life.     We  wait  for  God  ; 
He   comes    in    a  prophetic   utterance  which    all    must 
reverently   accept ;    yet  the   declaration    is    in    general 
terms.     When  at  last  the  Almighty   speaks  from  the 
storm  the  righteous  man  and  his   accusers  alike  have 
to  acknowledge  ignorance  and  error ;  there  is  an  end 
of  self-defence  and  of   condemnation  by  men,  but  no 
absolute  determination  of  the  controversy.     "The  vision 
is  for  the  appointed  time,  and   it  hasteth  toward  the 
end,  and  shall  not    lie  :    though    it  tarry,  waif  for  it ; 
because  it  will  surely  come,  it  will  not  delay.     Behold, 
his  soul  is  puffed  up,  it  is  not  upright  in  him-:  but  the 
just  shall  live  by  his  faith  "  (Hab.  ii.  3,  4). 

Eliphaz  begins  with  a  singular  question,  which  he  is 
moved  to  state  by  the  whole  tenor  of  Job's  reasoning 


xxii.]  DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL  ERROR.  271 


and  particularly  by  his  hope  that  God  would  become 
his  Redeemer.  ^' Can  a  man  be  profitable  unto  God?''' 
Not  quite  knowing  what  he  asks,  meaning  simply  to 
check  the  boldness  of  Job's  hope,  he  advances  to  the 
brink  of  an  abyss  of  doubt.  You  Job,  he  seems  to 
say,  a  mere  mortal  creature,  afflicted  enough  surely 
to  know  your  own  insignificance,  how  can  you  build 
yourself  up  in  the  notion  that  God  is  interested  in  your 
righteousness  ?  You  think  God  believes  in  you  and 
will  justify  you.  How  ignorant  you  must  be  if  you 
really  suppose  your  goodness  of  any  consequence  to 
the  Almighty,  if  you  imagine  that  by  making  your 
ways  perfect,  that  is,  claiming  an  integrity  which  man 
cannot  possess,  you  will  render  any  service  to  the 
Most  High.  Man  is  too  small  a  creature  to  be  of  any 
advantage  to  God.  Man's  respect,  faithfulness,  and 
devotion  are  essentially  of  no  profit  to   Him. 

One  must  say  that  Eliphaz  opens  a  question  of  the 
greatest  interest  both  in  theology  or  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  in  religion  or  the  right  feelings  of  man  toward 
God.  If  man  as  the  highest  energy,  the  finest  blossom- 
ing and  most  articulate  voice  of  the  creation,  is  of  no  con- 
sequence to  his  Creator,  if  it  makes  no  difference  to  the 
perfection  or  complacency  of  God  in  Himself  whether 
man  serves  the  end  of  his  being  or  not,  whether  man 
does  or  fails  to  do  the  right  he  was  made  to  love ;  if 
it  is  for  man's  sake  only  that  the  way  of  life  is  provided 
for  him  and  the  privilege  of  prayer  given  him, — then 
our  glorifying  of  God  is  not  a  reality  but  a  mere  form 
of  speech.  The  only  conclusion  possible  would  be  that 
even  when  we  serve  God  earnestly  in  love  and  sacrifice 
we  are  in  point  of  fact  serving  ourselves.  If  one 
wrestles  with  evil,  clings  to  the  truth,  renounces  all  for 
righteousness'  sake,  it  is  well  for  him.     If  he  is  hard- 


272  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

hearted  and  base,  his  life  will  decay  and  perish.  But, 
in  either  case,  the  eternal  calm,  the  ineffable  complete- 
ness of  the  Divine  nature  are  unaffected.  Yea,  though 
all  men  and  all  intelligent  beings  were  overwhelmed 
in  eternal  ruin  the  Creator's  glory  would  remain  the 
same,  like  a  full-orbed  sun  shining  over  a  desolate 
universe. 

..."  We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  by  a  sleep." 

Eliphaz  thinks  it  is  for  man's  sake  alone  God  has 
created  him,  surrounded  him  with  means  of  enjoyment 
and  progress,  given  him  truth  and  religion,  and  laid 
on  him  the  responsibilities  that  dignify  his  existence. 
But  what  comes  then  of  the  contention  that,  because 
Job  has  sinned,  desolation  and  disease  have  come  to 
him  from  the  Almighty  ?  If  man's  righteousness  is  of 
no  account  to  God,  why  should  his  transgressions  be 
punished  ?  Creating  men  for  their  ov^^n  sake,  a  benefi- 
cent Maker  would  not  lay  upon  them  duties  the  neglect 
of  which  through  ignorance  must  needs  work  their  ruin. 
We  know  from  the  opening  scenes  of  the  book  that  the 
Almighty  took  pleasure  in  His  servant.  We  see  Him 
trying  Job's  fidelity  for  the  vindication  of  His  own 
creative  power  and  heavenly  grace  against  the  scepticism 
of  such  as  the  Adversary.  Is  a  faithful  servant  not 
profitable  to  one  whom  he  earnestly  serves  ?  Is  it  all 
the  same  to  God  whether  we  receive  His  truth  or  reject 
His  covenant  ?  Then  the  urgency  of  Christ's  redemp- 
tive work  is  a  fiction.  Satan  is  not  only  correct  in 
regard  to  Job  but  has  stated  the  sole  philosophy  of 
human  life.  We  are  to  fear  and  serve  God  for  what 
we  get ;  and  our  notions  of  doing  bravely  in  the  great 


.]  DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL  ERROR.  273 


warfare  on  behalf  of  God's  kingdom  are  the  fancies  of 
men  who  dream. 

"  Ca)i  a  man  be  profitable  unto  God  ? 
Surely  he  that  is  wise  is  profitable  to  himself. 
Is  it  any  pleasure  to  the  Almighty  that  thou  art  righteous  ? 
Or  is  it  gain  to  Him  that  thou  makest  thy  ways  perfect  ? 
Is  it  for  thy  fear  of  Him  that  He  reprovetli  thee, 
That  He  enterelh  with  thee  into  judgment  ?  " 

Regarding  this  what  are  we  to  say  ?  That  it  is  false, 
an  ignorant  attempt  to  exalt  God  at  the  expense  of  man, 
to  depreciate  righteousness  in  the  human  range  for  the 
sake  of  maintaining  the  perfection  and  self-sufficiency 
of  God.  But  the  virtues  of  man,  love,  fidelity,  truth, 
purity,  justice,  are  not  his  own.  The  power  of  them 
in  human  life  is  a  portion  of  the  Divine  energy,  for  they 
are  communicated  and  sustained  by  the  Divine  Spirit. 
Were  the  righteousness,  love,  and  faith  instilled  into 
the  human  mind  to  fail  of  their  result,  were  they, 
instead  of  growing  and  yielding  fruit,  to  decay  and  die, 
it  would  be  waste  of  Divine  power ;  the  moral  cosmos 
would  be  relapsing  into  a  chaotic  state.  If  we  affirm 
that  the  obedience  and  redemption  of  man  do  not  profit 
the  Most  High,  then  this  world  and  the  inhabitants  of 
it  have  been  called  into  existence  by  the  Creator  in 
grim  jest,  and  He  is  simply  amusing  Himself  with  our 
hazardous  game. 

With  the  same  view  of  the  absolute  sovereignty  of 
God  in  creation  and  providence  on  which  Eliphaz  founds 
in  this  passage,  Jonathan  Edwards  sees  the  necessity 
of  escaping  the  conclusion  to  which  these  verses  point. 
He  argues  that  God's  delight  in  the  emanations  of  His 
fulness  in  the  work  of  creation  shows  "  His  delight  in 
the  infinite  fulness  of  gopd  there  is  in  Himself  and  the 
supreme  respect  and  regard  He  has  for  Himself."     An 

18 


274  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

objector  may  say,  he  proceeds,  '^  If  it  could  be  supposed 
that  God  needed  anything ;  or  that  the  goodness  of 
His  creatures  could  extend  to  Him ;  or  that  they  could 
be  profitable  to  Him,  it  might  be  fit  that  God  should 
make  Himself  and  His  own  interest  His  highest  and 
last  end  in  creating  the  world.  But  seeing  that  God  is 
above  all  need  and  all  capacity  of  being  added  to  and 
advanced,  made  better  and  happier  in  any  respect ;  to 
what  purpose  should  God  make  Himself  His  end,  or 
seek  to  advance  Himself  in  any  respect  by  any  of  His 
works  ?  "  The  answer  is — "  God  may  delight  with  true 
and  great  pleasure  in  beholding  that  beauty  which  is 
an  image  and  communication  of  His  own  beauty,  an 
expression  and  manifestation  of  His  own  loveliness. 
And  this  is  so  far  from  being  an  instance  of  His 
happiness  not  being  in  and  from  Himself,  that  it  is  an 
evidence  that  He  is  happy  in  Himself,  or  delights  and 
has  pleasure  in  His  own  beauty."  Nor  does  this  argue 
any  dependence  of  God  on  the  creature  for  happiness. 
"  Though  He  has  real  pleasure  in  the  creature's  holiness 
and  happiness ;  yet  this  is  not  properly  any  pleasure 
which  He  receives  from  the  creature.  For  these 
things  are  what  He  gives  the  creature."  *  Here  to  a 
certain  extent  the  reasoning  is  cogent  and  meets  the 
difficulty  of  Eliphaz  ;  and  at  present  it  is  not  necessary 
to  enter  into  the  other  difficulty  which  has  to  be  faced 
when  the  Divine  reprobation  of  sinful  life  needs 
explanation.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  this  is  a  ques- 
tion even  more  perplexing  to  those  who  hold  with 
Eliphaz  than  to  those  who  take  the  other  view.  If  man 
for  God's  glory  has  been  allowed  a  real  part  in  the 
service  of  eternal  righteousness,  his  failure  to  do  the 

*  Jonathan  Edwards,  "  Dissertation  concerning  the  End  for  which 
God  created  the  World,"  Section  IV. 


xxii.]  DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL  ERROR.  275 

part  of  which  he  is  capable,  to  which  he  is  called,  must 
involve  his  condemnation.  So  far  as  his  will  enters 
into  the  matter  he  is  rightly  held  accountable,  and  must 
suffer  for  neglect. 

Passing  to  the  next  part  of  Eliphaz's  address  we  find 
it  equally  astray  for  another  reason.  He  asks  *'  Is  not 
thy  wickedness  great  ?  "  and  proceeds  to  recount  a  list  of 
crimes  which  appear  to  have  been  charged  against  Job 
in  the  base  gossip  of  ill-doing  people. 

"/s  not  thy  wickedness  great, 
And  no  limit  to  thy  iniquities  ? 

For  thou  hast  taken  pledges  of  thy  brother  for  nought. 
And  stripped  the  naked  of  their  clothing. 
Thou  hast  not  given  water  to  the  weary, 
And  thou  hast  withholden  bread  from  the  famished. 
The  man  of  might — his  is  the  eai'th  ; 
And  he  that  is  in  honour  dwelt  therein. 
Thou  hast  sent  widows  away  empty, 
And  the  arms  of  the  orphans  have  been  broken.^' 

The  worst  here  affirmed  against  Job  is  that  he  has 
overborne  the  righteous  claims  of  widows  and  orphans. 
Bildad  and  Zophar  made  a  mistake  in  alleging  that 
he  had  been  a  robber  and  a  freebooter.  Yet  is 
it  less  unfriendly  to  give  ear  to  the  cruel  slanders 
of  those  who  in  Job's  day  of  prosperity  had  not 
obtained  from  him  all  they  desired  and  are  now  ready 
with  their  complaints  ?  No  doubt  the  offences  specified 
are  such  as  might  have  been  committed  by  a  man  in 
Job's  position  and  excused  as  within  his  right.  To 
take  a  pledge  for  debt  was  no  uncommon  thing. 
When  water  was  scarce,  to  withhold  it  even  from  the 
weary  was  no  extraordinary  baseness.  Vambery  tells 
us  that  on  the  steppes  he  has  seen  father  and  son 
fighting  almost  to  the  death  for  the  dregs  of  a  skin  of 
water.     Eliphaz,   however,   a  good  man,  counts  it  no 


276  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


more  than  duty  to  share  this  necessary  of  life  with  any' 
fainting  traveller,  even  if  the  wells  are  dry  and  the 
skins  are  nearly  empty.  He  also  makes  it  a  crime  to 
keep  back  corn  in  the  year  of  famine.  He  says  truly 
that  the  man  of  might,  doing  such  things,  acts  dis- 
gracefully. But  there  was  no  proof  that  Job  had  been 
guilty  of  this  kind  of  inhumanity,  and  the  gross  per- 
version of  justice  to  which  Eliphaz  condescends  recoils 
on  himself.  It  does  not  always  happen  so  within  our 
knowledge.  Pious  slander  gathered  up  and  retailed 
frequently  succeeds.  An  Eliphaz  endeavours  to  make 
good  his  opinion  by  showing  providence  to  be  for 
it ;  he  keeps  the  ear  open  to  any  report  that  will 
confirm  what  is  already  believed  ;  and  the  circulating 
of  such  a  report  may  destroy  the  usefulness  of  a  life, 
the  usefulness  which  is  denied. 

Take  a  broader  view  of  the  same  controversy.  Is 
there  no  exaggeration  in  the  charges  thundered  some- 
times against  poor  human  nature  ?  Is  it  not  often 
thought  a  pious  duty  to  extort  confession  of  sins  men 
never  dreamed  of  committing,  so  that  they  may  be 
driven  to  a  repentance  that  shakes  hfe  to  its  centre  and 
almost  unhinges  the  reason?  With  conviction  of  error, 
unbelief,  and  disobedience  the  new  life  must  begin. 
Yet  religion  is  made  unreal  by  the  attempt  to  force  on 
the  conscience  and  to  extort  from  the  lips  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  crimes  which  were  never  intended  and  are 
perhaps  far  apart  from  the  whole  drift  of  the  character. 
The  truthfulness  of  John  the  Baptist's  preaching  was 
very  marked.  He  did  not  deal  with  imaginary  sins. 
And  when  our  Lord  spoke  of  the  duties  and  errors  of 
men  either  in  discourse  or  parable,  He  never  exagger- 
ated. The  sins  He  condemned  were  all  intelligible  to 
the  reason  of  those  addressed,  such  as  the  conscience 


xxii.]  DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL  ERROR.  277 

was  bound  to  own,  must  recognise  as  evil  things,  dis- 
honouring to  the  Almighty. 

Having  declared  Job's  imaginary  crimes,  Eliphaz 
exclaims,  "  Therefore  snares  are  round  about  thee  and 
sudden  fear  troubleth  theeT  With  the  whole  weight  of 
assumed  moral  superiority  he  bears  down  upon  the 
sufferer.  He  takes  upon  him  to  interpret  providence, 
and  every  word  is  false.  Job  has  clung  to  God  as  his 
Friend.  EHphaz  denies  him  the  right,  cuts  him  off  as  a 
rebel  from  the  grace  of  the  King.  Truly,  it  may  be 
said,  religion  is  never  in  greater  danger  than  when  it  is 
upheld  by  hard  and  ignorant  zeal  like  this. 

Then,  in  the  passage  beginning  at  the  twelfth  verse, 
the  attempt  is  made  to  show  Job  how  he  had  fallen 
into  the  sins  he  is  alleged  to  have  committed. 

"  Is  not  God  iTt  the  height  of  heaven  ? 
And  behold  the  cope  of  the  stars  how  high  thy  arc  ! 
And  thou  saidst — What  doth  God  knoiu  ? 
Can  He  jtidge^  through  thick  darkness  ? 
Thick  clouds  are  a  covering  to  Him  that  He  seeth  not ; 
And  He  ivalketh  on  the  round  of  heaven." 

Job  imagined  that  God  whose  dwelling-place  is  beyond 
the  clouds  and  the  stars  could  not  see  what  he  did. 
To  accuse  him  thus  is  to  pile  offence  upon  injustice, 
for  the  knowledge  of  God  has  been  his  continual 
desire. 

Finally,  before  Eliphaz  ends  the  accusation,  he 
identifies  Job's  frame  of  mind  with  the  proud  indif- 
ference of  those  whom  the  deluge  swept  away.  Job 
had  talked  of  the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  men  who 
had  not  God  in  all  their  thoughts.  Was  he  forgetting 
that  dreadful  calamity  ? 

"  Wilt  thou  keep  the  old  way 
Which  wicked  tnen  have  trodden  ? 


278  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


Who  were  snatched  away  before  their  time, 

Whose  foiindatiott  was  poured  out  as  a  stream  : 

Who  said  to  God,  Depart  from  us; 

And  what  can  the  Almighty  do  unto  us  ?  \ 

Yet  He  filled  their  houses  with  good  things  : 

But  the  counsel  of  the  wicked  is  far  from  me  !  " 

One  who  chose  to  go  on  in  the  way  of  transgressors 
would  share  their  fate ;  and  in  the  day  of  his  disaster 
as  of  theirs  the  righteous  should  be  glad  and  the 
innocent  break  into  scornful  laughter. 

So  Eliphaz  closes,  finding  it  difficult  to  make  out  his 
case,  yet  bound  as  he  supposes  to  do  his  utmost  for 
religion  by  showing  the  law  of  the  vengeance  of  God. 
And,  this  done,  he  pleads  and  promises  once  more  in 
the  finest  passage  that  falls  from  his  lips  : — 

"  Acqttaint  now  thyself  with  Htm  and  be  at  peace  : 
Thereby  good  shall  come  imto  thee. 
Receive,  I  pray  thee,  instruction  from  His  mouth, 
And  lay  up  His  words  in  thy  heart. 
If  thou  return  to  Shaddai,  thou  shall  be  built  up  ; 
If  thou  put  iniquity  far  from  thy  tents  : 
And  lay  thy  treasure  in  the  dust, 

And  among  the  stones  of  the  streams  the  gold  of  Ophir ; 
Then  shall  Shaddai  be  thy  treasure 
And  silver  in  plenty  tmto  thee" 

At  last  there  seems  to  be  a  strain  of  spirituality. 
"Acquaint  now  thyself  with  God  and  be  at  peace." 
Reconciliation  by  faith  and  obedience  is  the  theme. 
EHphaz  is  ignorant  of  much  ;  yet  the  greatness  and 
majesty  of  God,  the  supreme  power  which  must  be  pro- 
pitiated occupy  his  thoughts,  and  he  does  what  he  can 
to  lead  his  friend  out  of  the  storm  into  a  harbour  of 
safety.  Though  even  in  this  strophe  there  mingles  a 
taint  of  sinister  reflection,  it  is  yet  far  in  advance  of 
anything  Job  has  received  in  the  way  of  consolation. 
Admirable  in  itself  is  the  picture  of  the  restoration  of 


xxii.]  DOGMATIC  AND  MORAL  ERROR.  279 


a  reconciled  life  from  which  unrighteousness  is  put  far 
away.  He  seems  indeed  to  have  learned  something  at 
last  from  Job.  Now  he  speaks  of  one  who  in  his  desire 
for  the  favour  and  friendship  of  the  Most  High  sacrifices 
earthly  treasure,  flings  away  silver  and  gold  as  worth- 
less. No  doubt  it  is  ill-gotten  wealth  to  which  he  refers, 
treasure  that  has  a  curse  upon  it.  Nevertheless  one  is 
happy  to  find  him  separating  so  clearly  between  earthly 
riches  and  heavenly  treasure,  advising  the  sacrifice  of 
the  lower  for  Vv^hat  is  infinitely  higher.  There  is  even 
yet  hope  of  Eliphaz,  that  he  may  come  to  have  a  spiritual 
vision  of  the  favour  and  friendship  of  the  Almighty. 
In  all  he  says  here  by  way  of  promise  there  is  not  a 
word  of  renewed  temporal  prosperity.  Returning  to 
Shaddai  in  obedience  Job  will  pray  and  have  his  prayer 
answered.  Vows  he  has  made  in  the  time  of  trouble 
shall  be  redeemed,  for  the  desired  aid  shall  come. 
Beyond  this  there  shall  be,  in  the  daily  life,  a  strength, 
decision,  and  freedom  previously  unknown.  ''  Thou 
shall  decree  a  thing,  and  il  shall  be  established  unto  thceT 
The  man  who  is  at  length  in  the  right  way  of  life,  with 
God  for  his  ally,  shall  form  his  plans  and  be  able  to 
carry  them  out. 

"When  they  cast  down,  thou  shalt  say,   Uplifting! 
And  the  humble  person  He  shall  save. 
He  will  deliver  the  man  not  innocent ; 
Yea  he  shall  be  delivered  through  the  cleanness  of  thine  hands." 

True,  in  the  future  experience  of  Job  there  may  be 
disappointment  and  trouble.  Eliphaz  cannot  but  see 
that  the  ill-will  of  the  rabble  may  continue  long,  and 
perhaps  he  is  doubtful  of  the  temper  of  his  own  friends. 
But  God  will  help  His  servant  who  returns  to  humble 
obedience.     And  having  been    himself   tried   Job  will 


28o  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


intercede  for  those  in  distress,  perhaps  on  account  of 
their  sin,  and  his  intercession  will  prevail  with  God. 

Put  aside  the  thought  that  all  this  is  said  to  Job,  and 
it  is  surely  a  counsel  of  wisdom.  To  the  proud  and 
self-righteous  it  shows  the  way  of  renewal.  Away  with 
the  treasures,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  the  pride  of  life,  that 
keep  the  soul  from  its  salvation.  Let  the  Divine  love 
be  precious  to  thee  and  the  Divine  statutes  thy  jo3^ 
Power  to  deal  with  Hfe,  to  overcome  difficulties,  to  serve 
thy  generation  shall  then  be  thine.  Standing  securely 
in  God's  grace  thou  shalt  help  the  weary  and  heavy 
laden.  Yet  Eliphaz  cannot  give  the  secret  of  spiritual 
peace.  He  does  not  really  know  the  trouble  at  the 
heart  of  human  life.  We  need  for  our  Guide  One  who 
has  borne  the  burden  of  a  sorrow  which  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  loss  of  worldly  treasure  but.with  the  unrest 
perpetually  gnawing  at  the  heart  of  humanity,  who 
"bore  our  sin  in  His  own  body  unto  the  tree  "  and 
led  captivity  captive.  What  the  old  world  could  not 
know  is  made  clear  to  eyes  that  have  seen  the  cross 
against  the  falling  night  and  a  risen  Christ  in  the  fresh 
Easter  morning. 


XX. 

WHERE  IS  ELOAH? 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  xxiii.,  xxiv. 

THE  obscure  couplet  with  which  Job  begins  appears 
to  involve  some  reference  to  his  whole  condition 
alike  of  body  and  mind. 

"  Again,  to-day,  my  plaint,  tny  rebellion  ! 
The  hand  iipon  me  is  heavier  than  my  groanings." 

I  must  speak  of  my  trouble  and  you  will  count  it 
rebellion.  Yet,  if  I  moan  and  sigh,  my  pain  and  weari- 
ness are  more  than  excuse.  The  crisis  of  faith  is  with 
him,  a  protracted  misery,  and  hope  hangs  trembling  in 
the  balance.  The  false  accusations  of  Eliphaz  are  in 
his  mind  ;  but  they  provoke  only  a  feeHng  of  weary  dis- 
content. What  men  say  does  not  trouble  him  much. 
He  is  troubled  because  of  that  which  God  refuses  to  do 
or  say.  Many  indeed  are  the  afflictions  of  the  righteous. 
But  every  case  like  his  own  obscures  the  providence  of 
God.  Job  does  not  entirely  deny  the  contention  of  his 
friends  that  unless  suffering  comes  as  a  punishment 
of  sin  there  is  no  reason  for  it.  Hence,  even  though 
he  maintains  v/ith  strong  conviction  that  the  good  are 
often  poor  and  afQicted  while  the  wicked  prosper,  yet 
he  does  not  thereby  clear  up  the  matter.  He  must 
admit  to  himself  that  he  is  condemned  by  the  events  of 

281 


282  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

life.  And  against  the  testimony  of  outward  circum- 
stance he  makes  appeal  in  the  audience  chamber  of 
the  King. 

Has  the  Most  High  forgotten  to  be  righteous  for  a 
time  ?  When  the  generous  and  true  are  brought  into 
sore  straits,  is  the  great  Friend  of  truth  neglecting  His 
task  as  Governor  of  the  world  ?  That  would  indeed 
plunge  life  into  profound  darkness.  And  it  seems  to 
be  even  so.  Job  seeks  deliverance  from  this  mystery 
which  has  emerged  in  his  own  experience.  He  would 
lay  his  cause  before  Him  who  alone  can  explain. 

"  Oh  that  I  knew  where  I  niight  find  Him, 
That  I  might  come  even  to  His  seat ! 
I  would  order  my  cause  before  Him, 
And  fill  my  mouth  with  arguments. 
I  woidd  know  the  words  which  He  would  answer  me, 
And  tmderstand  what  He  would  say  tmto  me." 

Present  to  Job's  mind  here  is  the  thought  that  he  is 
under  condemnation,  and  along  with  this  the  convic- 
tion that  his  trial  is  not  over.  It  is  natural  that  his 
mind  should  hover  between  these  ideas,  holding  strongly 
to  the  hope  that  judgment,  if  already  passed,  will  be 
revised  when  the  facts  are  fully  known. 

Now  this  course  of  thought  is  altogether  in  the 
darkness.  But  what  are  the  principles  unknown  to 
Job,  through  ignorance  of  which  he  has  to  languish  in 
doubt  ?  Partly,  as  we  long  ago  saw,  the  explanation 
lies  in  the  use  of  trial  and  affliction  as  the  means  of 
deepening  spiritual  life.  They  give  gravity  and  there- 
with the  possibility  of  power  to  our  existence.  Even 
yet  Job  has  not  realised  that  one  always  kept  in  the 
primrose  path,  untouched  by  the  keen  air  of  ''  mis- 
fortune," although  he  had,  to  begin,  a  pious  disposition 
and   a  blameless  record,  would  be  worth  little  in  the 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  283 

end  to  God  or  to  mankind.  And  the  necessity  for  the 
discipHne  of  affliction  and  disappointment,  even  as  it 
explains  the  smaller  troubles,  explains  also  the  greatest. 
Let  ill  be  heaped  on  ill,  disaster  on  disaster,  disease  on 
bereavement,  misery  on  sorrow,  while  stage  by  stage 
the  life  goes  down  into  deeper  circles  of  gloom  and 
pain,  it  may  acquire,  it  will  acquire,  if  faith  and  faith- 
fulness towards  God  remain,  massiveness,  strength  and 
dignity  for  the  highest  spiritual  service. 

But  there  is  another  principle,  not  yet  considered, 
which  enters  into  the  problem  and  still  more  lightens 
up  the  valley  of  experience  which  to  Job  appeared  so 
dark.  The  poem  touches  the  fringe  of  this  principle 
again  and  again,  but  never  states  it.  The  author  saw 
that  men  were  born  to  trouble.  He  made  Job  suffer 
more  because  he  had  his  integrity  to  maintain  than  if 
he  had  been  guilty  of  transgressions  by  acknowledging 
which  he  might  have  pacified  his  friends.  The  burden 
lay  heavil}^  upon  Job  because  he  was  a  conscientious  man, 
a  true  man,  and  could  not  accept  any  make-beheve  in 
religion.  But  just  where  another  step  would  have  carried 
him  into  the  light  of  blessed  acquiescence  in  the  will  of 
God,  the  power  failed,  he  could  not  advance.  Perhaps 
the  genuineness  and  simplicit}^  of  his  character  would 
have  been  impaired  if  he  had  thought  of  it,  and  we 
like  him  better  because  he  did  not.  The  truth,  how- 
ever, is  that  Job  was  suffering  for  others,  that  he  was, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  a  martyr,  and  so  far  forth  in  the 
spirit  and  position  of  that  suffering  Servant  of  Jehovah 
of  whom  we  read  in  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah. 

The  righteous  sufferers,  the  martyrs,  what  are  they  ? 
Always  the  vanguard  of  humanity.  Where  they  go  and 
the  prints  of  their  bleeding  feet  are  left,  there  is  the  way 
of  improvement,  of  civilisation,  of  religion.     The  most 


284  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


successful  man,  preacher  or  journalist  or  statesman,  is 
popularly  supposed  to  be  leading  the  world  in  the 
right  path.  Where  the  crowd  goes  shouting  after  him, 
is  that  not  the  way  of  advance  ?  Do  not  believe  it. 
Look  for  a  teacher,  a  journalist,  a  statesman  who  is  not 
so  successful  as  he  might  be,  because  he  will,  at  all 
hazards,  be  true.  The  Christian  world  does  not  yet 
know  the  best  in  life,  thought  and  morality  for  the 
best.  He  who  sacrifices  position  and  esteem  to  right- 
eousness, he  who  will  not  bow  down  to  the  great  idol 
at  the  sound  of  sackbut  and  psaltery,  observe  where 
that  man  is  going,  try  to  understand  what  he  has  in 
his  mind.  Those  who  under  defeat  or  neglect  remain 
steadfast  in  faith  have  the  secrets  we  need  to  know. 
To  the  ranks  even  of  the  afQicted  and  broken  the  author 
of  Job  turned  for  an  example  of  witness-bearing  to 
high  ideas  and  the  faith  in  God  which  brings  salvation. 
But  he  wrought  in  the  shadow,  and  his  hero  is  uncon- 
scious of  his  high  calling.  Had  Job  seen  the  principles 
of  Divine  providence  which  made  him  a  helper  of 
human  faith,  we  should  not  now  hear  him  cry  for  an 
opportunity  of  pleading  his  cause  before  God. 

"  Wotild  He  contend  with  me  in  His  mighty  power  ? 
Nay,  but  He  zvoidd  give  heed  to  me. 
Then  an   upright  man  would  reason  with  Him, ; 
So  should  I  get  free  for  ever  from  my  Judge." 

It  is  in  a  sense  startling  to  hear  this  confident  ex- 
pectation of  acquittal  at  the  bar  of  God.  The  common 
notion  is  that  the  only  part  possible  to  man  in  his  natural 
state  is  to  fear  the  judgment  to  come  and  dread  the 
hour  that  shall  bring  him  to  the  Divine  tribunal. 
From  the  ordinary  point  of  view  the  language  of  Job 
here  is  dangerous,  if  not  profane.  He  longs  to  meet 
the  Judge  ;  he  believes  that  he  could  so  state  his  case 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  IVHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  285 


that  the  Judge  would  listen  and  be  convinced.  The 
Almighty  would  not  contend  with  him  any  longer  as 
his  powerful  antagonist,  but  would  pronounce  him 
innocent  and  set  him  at  liberty  for  ever.  Can  mortal 
man  vindicate  himself  before  the  bar  of  the  Most  High  ? 
Is  not  every  one  condemned  by  the  law  of  nature  and 
of  conscience,  much  more  by  Him  who  knoweth  all 
things  ?  And  yet  this  man  who  believes  he  would  be 
acquitted  by  the  great  King  has  already  been  declared 
"perfect  and  upright,  one  that  feareth  God  and  escheweth 
evil."  Take  the  declaration  of  the  Almighty  Himself 
in  the  opening  scenes  of  the  book,  and  Job  is  found 
what  he  claims  to  be.  Under  the  influence  of  that 
Divine  grace  which  the  sincere  and  upright  may  enjoy 
he  has  been  a  faithful  servant  and  has  earned  the  appro- 
bation of  his  Judge.  It  is  by  faith  he  is  made  righteous. 
Religion  and  love  of  the  Divine  law  have  been  his 
guides  ;  he  has  followed  them  ;  and  what  one  has  done 
may  not  others  do  ?  Our  book  is  concerned  not  so 
much  with  the  corruption  of  human  nature,  as  with  the 
vindication  of  the  grace  of  God  given  to  human  nature. 
Corrupt  and  vile  as  humanity  often  is,  imperfect  and 
spiritually  ignorant  as  it  always  is,  the  writer  of  this 
book  is  not  engaged  with  that  view.  He  directs  attention 
to  the  virtuous  and  honourable  elements  and  shows 
God's  new  creation  in  which  He  may  take  delight. 

We  shall  indeed  find  that  after  the  Almighty  has 
spoken  out  of  the  storm.  Job  says,  ''  I  repudiate  my 
words  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes."  So  he  appears 
to  come  at  last  to  the  confession  which,  from  one  point 
of  view,  he  ought  to  have  made  at  the  first.  But  those 
words  of  penitence  imply  no  acknowledgment  of  iniquity 
after  all.  They  are  confession  of  ignorant  judgment. 
Job  admits  with  sorrow  that  he  has  ventured  too  far  in 


286  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

his  attempt  to  understand  the  ways  of  the  Almighty, 
that  he  has  spoken  without  knowledge  of  the  universal 
providence  he  had  vainly  sought  to  fathom. 

The  author's  intention  plainly  is  to  justify  Job  in  his 
desire  for  the  opportunity  of  pleading  his  cause,  that 
is,  to  justify  the  claim  of  the  human  reason  to  compre- 
hend. It  is  not  an  offence  to  him  that  much  of  the 
Divine  working  is  profoundly  difficult  to  interpret.  He 
acknowledges  in  humility  that  God  is  greater  than  man, 
that  there  are  secrets  with  the  Almighty  which  the 
human  mind  cannot  penetrate.  But  so  far  as  suffering 
and  sorrow  are  appointed  to  a  man  and  enter  into  his 
life,  he  is  considered  to  have  the  right  of  inquiry  regard- 
ing them,  an  inherent  claim  on  God  to  explain  them. 
This  may  be  held  the  error  of  the  author  which  he 
himself  has  to  confess  when  he  comes  to  the  Divine 
interlocution.  There  he  seems  to  allow  the  majesty  of 
the  Omnipotent  to  silence  the  questions  of  human  reason. 
But  this  is  really  a  confession  that  his  own  knowledge 
does  not  suffice,  that  he  shares  the  ignorance  of  Job 
as  well  as  his  cry  for  light.  The  universe  is  vaster 
than  he  or  any  of  the  Old  Testament  age  could  even 
imagine.  The  destinies  of  man  form  part  of  a  Divine 
order  extending  through  the  immeasurable  spaces  and 
the  developments  of  eternal  ages. 

Once  more  Job  perceives  or  seems  to  perceive  that 
access  to  the  presence  of  the  Judge  is  denied.  The 
sense  of  condemnation  shuts  him  in  like  prison  walls 
and  he  finds  no  way  to  the  audience  chamber.  The 
bright  sun  moves  calmly  from  east  to  west ;  the 
gleaming  stars,  the  cold  moon  in  their  turn  glide  silently 
over  the  vault  of  heaven.  Is  not  God  on  high?  Yet 
man  sees  no  form,  hears  no  sound. 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH?  287 

"  Speak  to  Him  thou,  for  He  hears,  and  spirit  with  spirit  can  meet ; 
Closer  is  He  than  breathing,  and  nearer  tlian  hands  and  feet." 

But  Job  is   not   able  to  conceive   a  spiritual   presence 
without  shape  or  voice. 

^'Behold,  I  go  forward,  but  He  is  not  there; 
And  backivard,  but  I  cannot  perceive  Him : 
On  the  left  hand  where  He  doth  work,  but  I  behold  Him  not: 
He  hideth  Himself  on  the  right  hand  that  I  cannot  see  Him.'" 

Nature,  thou  hast  taught  this  man  by  thy  light  and 
thy  darkness,  thy  glorious  sun  and  thy  storms,  the 
clear-shining  after  rain,  the  sprouting  corn  and  the 
clusters  of  the  vine,  by  the  power  of  man's  will  and 
the  daring  love  and  justice  of  man's  heart.  In  all 
thou  hast  been  a  revealer.  But  thou  hidest  whom 
thou  dost  reveal.  To  cover  in  thought  the  multi- 
plicity of  thy  energies  in  earth  and  sky  and  sea,  in 
fowl  and  brute  and  man,  in  storm  and  sunshine,  in 
reason,  in  imagination,  in  will  and  love  ^nd  hope ; — 
to  attach  these  one  by  one  to  the  idea  of  a  Being 
almighty,  infinite,  eternal,  and  so  to  conceive  this 
God  of  the  universe — it  is,  we  may  say,  a  super- 
human task.  Job  breaks  down  in  the  effort  to  realise 
the  great  God.  I  look  behind  me,  into  the  past. 
There  are  the  footprints  of  Eloah  when  He  passed 
by.  In  the  silence  an  echo  of  His  step  may  be  heard ; 
but  God  is  not  there.  On  the  right  hand,  away  beyond 
the  hills  that  shut  in  the  horizon,  on  the  left  hand 
where  the  way  leads  to  Damascus  and  the  distant 
north — not  there  can  I  see  His  form  ;  nor  out  yonder 
where  day  breaks  in  the  east.  And  when  I  travel 
forward  in  imagination,  I  who  said  that  my  Redeemer 
shall  stand  upon  the  earth,  when  I  strive  to  conceive 
His  form,  still,  in  utter  human  incapacity,  I  fail. 
"  Verily,  Thou  art  a  God  that  hidest  Thyself." 


288  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


And  yet,  Job's  conviction  of  his  own  uprightness,  is 
it  not  God's  witness  to  his  spirit  ?  Can  he  not  be 
content  with  that  ?  To  have  such  a  testimony  is  to 
have  the  very  verdict  he  desires.  Well  does  Boethius, 
a  writer  of  the  old  world  though  he  belonged  to  the 
Christian  age,  press  be3'ond  Job  where  he  writes  :  ''  He 
is  alwa3'S  Almighty,  because  He  always  wills  good  and 
never  any  evil.  He  is  always  equally  gracious.  By 
His  Divine  power  He  is  everywhere  present.  The 
Eternal  and  Almighty  always  sits  on  the  throne  of  His 
power.  Thence  He  is  able  to  see  all,  and  renders  to 
every  one  with  justice,  according  to  his  works.  There- 
fore it  is  not  in  vain  that  we  have  hope  in  God  ;  for 
He  changes  not  as  we  do.  But  pray  ye  to  Him 
humbly,  for  He  is  very  bountiful  and  very  merciful. 
Hate  and  fly  from  evil  as  ye  best  may.  Love  virtues 
and  follow  them.  Ye  have  great  need  that  ye  alwa3'S 
do  well,  for  ye  always  in  the  presence  of  the  Eternal 
and  Almighty  God  do  all  that  ye  do.  He  beholds  it 
all,  and  He  will  recompense  it  all."  * 

Amiel,  on  the  other  hand,  would  fain  apply  to  Job 
a  reflection  which  has  occurred  to  himself  in  one  of 
the  moods  that  come  to  a  man  disappointed,  impatient 
of  his  own  limitations.  In  his  journal,  under  date 
January  29th,  1866,  he  writes:  "It  is  but  our  secret 
self-love  which  is  set  upon  this  favour  from  on  high ; 
such  may  be  our  desire,  but  such  is  not  the  will  of 
God.  We  are  to  be  exercised,  humbled,  tried  and 
tormented  to  the  end.  It  is  our  patience  which  is  the 
touchstone  of  our  virtue.  To  bear  with  life  even  when 
illusion  and  hope  are  gone  ;  to  accept  this  position  of 
perpetual   war,   while    at   the    same    time    loving    only 


Consolation  of  Philosophy,"  chap.  xlii. 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  289 

peace ;  to  stay  patiently  in  the  world,  even  when  it 
repels  us  as  a  place  of  low  company  and  seems  to  us 
a  mere  arena  of  bad  passions ;  to  remain  faithful  to 
one's  own  faith  without  breaking  with  the  followers 
of  false  gods  ;  to  make  no  attempt  to  escape  from  the 
human  hospital,  long-suffering  and  patient  as  Job  upon 
his  dunghill ; — this  is  duty."  *  An  evil  mood  prompts 
Amiel  to  write  thus.  A  thousand  times  rather  would 
one  hear  him  cr^'ing  like  Job  on  the  great  Judge  and 
Redeemer  and  complaining  that  the  Goel  hides  Himself. 
It  is  not  in  bare  self-love  or  self-pity  Job  seeks  acquittal 
at  the  bar  of  God ;  but  in  the  defence  of  conscience, 
the  spiritual  treasure  of  mankind  and  our  very  life. 
No  doubt  his  own  personal  justification  bulks  largely 
with  Job,  for  he  has  strong  individuality.  He  will 
not  be  overborne.  He  stands  at  bay  against  his  three 
friends  and  the  unseen  adversary.  But  he  loves  in- 
tegrity, the  virtue,  first ;  and  for  himself  he  cares  as 
the  representative  of  that  which  the  Spirit  of  God  gives 
to  faithful  men.  He  may  cry,  therefore,  he  may  defend 
himself,  he  may  complain ;  and  God  will  not  cast  him 
off. 

"For  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take; 
If  He  tried  me,  I  should  come  forth  as  gold. 
My  foot  hath  held  fast  to  His  steps, 
His  way  have  I  kept,  and  not  turned  aside. 
I  have  not  gone  back  from  the  comm,andments  of  His  lips  ; 
I  have  treasured  the   words  of  His  mouth  more  than  my 
needful  food.'' 

Bravely,  not  in  mere  vaunt  he  speaks,  and  it  is  good 
to  hear  him  still  able  to  make  such  a  claim.  Why  do 
we  not  also  hold  fast  to  the  garment  of  our  Divine 
Friend  ?      Why    do   we    not    realise    and    exhibit    the 

*  Mrs.  Ward's  translation,  p.  116. 

19 


290  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

resolute  godliness  that  anticipates  judgment :  "  If  He 
tried  me,  I  should  come  forth  as  gold  "  ?  The  psalmists 
of  Israel  stood  thus  on  their  faith ;  and  not  in  vain, 
surely,  has  Christ  called  us  to  be  like  our  Father  who 
is  in  heaven. 

But   again   from    brave    affirmation   Job   falls   back 
exhausted. 

"  Oh  thou  Hereafter !  on  whose  shore  I  stand — 
Waiting  each  toppling  moment  to  engulf  me, 
What  am  I  ?     Say  thou  Present !  say  thou  Past 
Ye  three  wise  children  of  Eternity ! — 
A  life  ?— A  death  ?— and  an  immortal  ?— All  ? 
Is  this  the  threefold  mystery  of  man  ? 
The  lower,  darker  Trinity  of  earth  ? 
It  is  vain  to  ask.     Nought  answers  me — not  God. 
The  air  grows  thick  and  dark.     The  sky  comes  down. 
The  sun  draws  round  him  streaky  clouds — like  God 
Gleaning  up  wrath.     Hope  hath  leapt  off  my  heart, 
Like  a  false  sibyl,  fear-smote,  from  her  seat, 
And  overturned  it."* 

So,  as  Bailey  makes  his  Festus  speak,  might  Job 
have  spoken  here.  For  now  it  seems  to  him  that  to 
call  on  God  is  fruitless.  Eloah  is  of  one  mind.  His 
will  is  steadfast,  immovable.  Death  is  in  the  cup  and 
death  will  come.  On  this  God  has  determined.  Nor 
is  it  in  Job's  case  alone  so  sore  a  doom  is  performed  by 
the  Almighty.  Many  such  things  are  with  Him.  The 
waves  of  trouble  roll  up  from  the  deep  dark  sea  and  go 
over  the  head  of  the  sufferer.  He  lies  faint  and  desolate 
once  more.  The  light  fades,  and  with  a  deep  sigh 
because  he  ever  came  to  life  he  shuts  his  lips. 

Natural  religion  ends  always  with  a  sigh.     The  sense 
of  God   found  in  the  order  of  the  universe,  the  dim 

*  "  Festus,"  edition  1864,  p.  503. 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  291 


vision  of  God  which  comes  in  conscience,  moral  life 
and  duty,  in  fear  and  hope  and  love,  in  the  longing  for 
justice  and  truth — these  avail  much ;  but  they  leave 
us  at  the  end  desiring  something  they  cannot  give. 
The  Unknown  God  whom  men  ignorantly  worshipped 
had  to  be  revealed  by  the  Hfe  and  truth  and  power  of 
the  Man  Christ  Jesus.  Not  without  this  revelation, 
which  is  above  and  beyond  nature,  can  our  eager  quest 
end  in  satisfying  knowledge.  In  Christ  alone  the 
righteousness  that  justifies,  the  love  that  compassion- 
ates, the  wisdom  that  enlightens  are  brought  into  the 
range  of  our  experience  and  communicated  through 
reason  to  faith. 

In  chap.  xxiv.  there  is  a  development  of  the  reasoning 
contained  in  Job's  reply  to  Zophar  in  the  second  colloquy, 
and  there  is  also  a  closer  examination  of  the  nature  and 
results  of  evil-doing  than  has  yet  been  attempted.  In 
the  course  of  his  acute  and  careful  discrimination  Job 
allows  something  to  his  friends'  side  of  the  argument, 
but  all  the  more  emphasises  the  series  of  vivid  touches 
by  which  the  prosperous  tyrant  is  represented.  He 
modifies  to  some  extent  his  opinion  previously  expressed 
that  all  goes  well  with  the  wicked.  He  finds  that 
certain  classes  of  miscreants  do  come  to  confusion,  and 
he  separates  these  from  the  others,  at  the  same  time 
separating  himself  beyond  question  from  the  oppressor 
on  this  side  and  the  murderer  and  adulterer  on  that. 
Accepting  the  limits  of  discussion  chosen  by  the  friends 
he  exhausts  the  matter  between  himself  and  them.  By 
the  distinctions  now  made  and  the  choice  offered.  Job 
arrests  personal  accusation,  and  of  that  we  hear  no 
more. 

Continuing  the  idea  of  a  Divine  assize  which  has 


292  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

governed  his  thought  throughout  this  reply,  Job  asks 
why  it  should  not  be  held  openly  from  time  to  time  in 
the  world's  history. 

"  Why  are  times  not  set  by  the  Almighty  ? 
And  why  do  not  they  who  know  Hint  see  His  days?" 

Emerson  says  the  world  is  full  of  judgment-days ;  Job 
thinks  it  is  not,  but  ought  to  be.  Passing  from  his  own 
desire  to  have  access  to  the  bar  of  God  and  plead  there, 
he  now  thinks  of  an  open  court,  a  public  vindication 
of  God's  rule.  The  Great  Assize  is  never  proclaimed. 
Ages  go  by  ;  the  Righteous  One  never  appears.  All 
things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation.  Men  struggling,  sinning,  suffering,  doubt  or 
deny  the  existence  of  a  moral  Ruler.  They  ask,  Who 
ever  saw  this  God  ?  If  He  exists,  He  is  so  separate 
from  the  world  by  His  own  choice  that  there  is  no  need 
to  consider  Him.  In  pride  or  in  sorrow  men  raise  the 
question.  But  no  God  means  no  justice,  no  truth,  no 
penetration  of  the  real  by  the  ideal ;  and  thought  cannot 
rest  there. 

With  great  vigour  and  large  knowledge  of  the  world 
the  writer  makes  Job  point  out  the  facts  of  human 
violence  and  crime,  of  human  condonation  and  punish- 
ment. Look  at  the  oppressors  and  those  who  cringe 
under  them,  the  despots  never  brought  to  justice,  but 
on  the  contrary  growing  in  power  through  the  fear 
and  misery  of  their  serfs.  Already  we  have  seen  how 
perilous  it  is  to  speak  falsely  for  God.  Now  we  see, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  whoever  speaks  truly  of  the 
facts  of  human  experience  prepares  the  way  for  a  true 
knowledge  of  God.  Those  who  have  been  looking  in 
vain  for  indications  of  Divine  justice  and  grace  are  to 
learn  that  not  in  deliverance  from  the  poverty  and 
trouble  of  this  world  but  in  some  other  way  they  must 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH?  293 

realise  God's  redemption.  The  writer  of  the  book  is 
seeking  after  that  kingdom  which  is  not  meat  and  drink 
nor  long  life  and  happiness,  but  righteousness  and 
peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Observe  first,  says  Job,  the  base  and  cruel  men  who 
remove  landmarks  and  claim  as  their  own  a  neighbour's 
heritage,  who  drive  into  their  pastures  flocks  that  are 
not  theirs,  who  even  take  away  the  one  ass  of  the 
fatherless  and  the  one  ox  the  widow  has  for  ploughing 
her  scanty  fields,  who  thus  with  a  high  hand  overbear 
all  the  defenceless  people  within  their  reach.  Zophar 
had  charged  Job  with  similar  crimes,  and  no  direct  reply 
was  given  to  the  accusation.  Now,  speaking  strongly 
of  the  iniquity  of  such  deeds.  Job  makes  his  accusers 
feel  their  injustice  towards  him.  There  are  men  who 
do  such  things.  I  have  seen  them,  wondered  at  them, 
been  amazed  that  they  were  not  struck  down  by  the 
hand  of  God.  My  distress  is  that  I  cannot  understand 
how  to  reconcile  their  immunity  from  punishment  with 
my  faith  in  Him  whom  I  have  served  and  trusted  as 
my  Friend. 

The  next  picture,  from  the  fifth  to  the  eighth  verse, 
shows  in  contrast  to  the  tyrant's  pride  and  cruelty  the 
lot  of  those  who  suffer  at  his  hands.  Deprived  of  their 
land  and  their  flocks,  herding  together  in  common 
danger  and  misery  like  wild  asses,  they  have  to  seek 
for  their  food  such  roots  and  wild  fruits  as  can  be  found 
here  and  there  in  the  wilderness.  Half  enslaved  now 
by  the  man  who  took  away  their  land  they  are  driven 
to  the  task  of  harvesting  his  fodder  and  gathering  the 
gleanings  of  his  grapes.  Naked  they  lie  in  the  field, 
huddling  together  for  warmth,  and  out  among  the  hills 
they  are  wet  with  the  impetuous  rains,  crouching  in 
vain  under  the  ledges  of  the  rock  for  shelter. 


294  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

Worse  things  too  are  done,  greater  sufferings  than 
these  have  to  be  endured.  Men  there  are  who  pluck 
the  fatherless  child  from  the  mother's  breast,  claiming 
the  poor  little  life  as  a  pledge.  Miserable  debtors,  faint 
with  hunger,  have  to  carry  the  oppressor's  sheaves  of 
corn.  They  have  to  grind  at  the  oil-presses,  and  with 
never  a  cluster  to  slake  their  thirst  tread  the  grapes  in 
the  hot  sun.  Nor  is  it  only  in  the  country  cruelties  are 
practised.  Perhaps  in  Egypt  the  writer  has  seen  what 
he  makes  Job  describe,  the  misery  of  city  life.  In  the 
city  the  dying  groan  uncared  for,  and  the  soul  of  the 
wounded  crieth  out.  Universal  are  the  scenes  of  social 
iniquity.  The  world  is  full  of  injustice.  And  to  Job 
the  sting  of  it  all  is  that  ''  God  regardeth  not  the  wroiig^ 

Men  talk  nowadays  as  if  the  penury  and  distress 
prevalent  in  our  large  towns  proved  the  churches  to  be 
unworthy  of  their  name  and  place.  It  may  be  so.  If 
this  can  be  proved,  let  it  be  proved;  and  if  the  institu- 
tion called  The  Church  cannot  justify  its  existence  and 
its  Christianity  where  it  should  do  so  by  freeing  the 
poor  from  oppression  and  securing  their  rights  to  the 
weak,  then  let  it  go  to  the  wall.  But  here  is  Job  carry- 
ing the  accusation  a  stage  farther,  carrying  it,  with 
what  may  appear  blasphemous  audacity,  to  the  throne 
of  God.  He  has  no  church  to  blame,  for  there  is  no 
church.  Or,  he  himself  represents  what  church  there 
is.  And  as  a  witness  for  God,  what  does  he  find  to  be 
his  portion  ?  Behold  him,  where  many  a  servant  of 
Divine  righteousness  has  been  in  past  times  and  is  now, 
down  in  the  depths,  poorest  of  the  poor,  bereaved, 
diseased,  scorned,  misunderstood,  hopeless.  Why  is 
there  suffering?  Why  are  there  many  in  our  cities 
outcasts  of  society,  such  as  society  is  ?  Job's  case  is 
a  partial  explanation ;  and  here  the  church  is  not  to 


xxiii,,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  295 

blame.  Pariahs  of  society,  we  say.  If  society  consists 
to  any  great  extent  of  oppressors  who  are  enjoying 
wealth  unjustly  gained,  one  is  not  so  sure  that  there  is 
any  need  to  pity  those  who  are  excluded  from  society. 
Am  I  trying  to  make  out  that  it  may  be  well  there  are 
oppressors,  because  oppression  is  not  the  worst  thing 
for  a  brave  soul  ?  No :  I  am  only  using  the  logic  of 
the  Book  of  Job  in  justifying  Divine  providence.  The 
church  is  criticised  and  by  many  in  these  days  con- 
demned as  worthless  because  it  is  not  banishing 
poverty.  Perhaps  it  might  be  more  in  the  way  of 
duty  and  more  likely  to  succeed  if  it  sought  to  banish 
excessive  wealth.  Are  we  of  the  twentieth  Christian 
century  to  hold  still  by  the  error  of  Eliphaz  and  the 
rest  of  Job's  friends  ?  Are  we  to  imagine  that  those 
whom  the  gospel  blesses  it  must  of  necessity  enrich, 
so  that  in  their  turn  they  may  be  tempted  to  act  the 
Pharisee  ?  Let  us  be  sure  God  knows  how  to  govern 
His  world.  Let  us  not  doubt  His  justice  because  many 
are  very  poor  who  have  been  guilty  of  no  crimes  and 
many  very  rich  who  have  been  distinguished  by  no 
virtues.  It  is  our  mistake  to  think  that  all  would  be 
well  if  no  bitter  cries  were  heard  in  the  midnight  streets 
and  every  one  were  secured  against  penury.  While 
the  church  is  partly  to  blame  for  the  state  of  things,  the 
salvation  of  society  will  not  be  found  in  any  earthly 
sociahsm.  On  that  side  lies  a  slough  as  deep  as  the 
other  from  which  it  professes  to  save.  The  large 
Divine  justice  and  humanity  which  the  world  needs  are 
those  which  Christ  alone  has  taught,  Christ  to  whom 
property  was  only  something  to  deal  with  on  the  way 
to  spiritual  good, — humility,  holiness,  love  and  faith. 

The  emphatic  ^^  These^^  with  which  verse   13  begins 
must  be  taken  as  referring  to  the  murderer  and  adulterer 


296  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

immediately  to  be  described.  Quite  distinct  from  the 
strong  oppressors  who  maintain  themselves  in  high  posi- 
tion are  these  cowardly  miscreants  who  ''rebel  against 
the  light"  (ver.  1 3),  who  "  in  the  dark  dig  through  houses" 
and  "  know  not  the  light "  (ver.  16),  to  whom  the  morning 
is  as  the  shadow  of  death,"  whose  ''  portion  is  cursed  in 
the  earth."  The  passage  contains  Job's  admission  that 
there  are  vile  transgressors  of  human  and  Divine  law 
whose  unrighteousness  is  broken  as  a  tree  (ver.  20). 
Without  giving  up  his  main  contention  as  to  high- 
handed wickedness  prospering  in  the  world  he  can 
admit  this  ;  nay,  asserting  it  he  strengthens  his  position 
against  the  arguments  of  his  friends.  The  murderer 
who  rising  towards  daybreak  waylays  and  kills  the 
poor  and  needy  for  the  sake  of  their  scanty  belongings, 
the  adulterer  who  waits  for  the  twilight,  disguising  his 
face,  and  the  thief  who  in  the  dark  digs  through  the 
clay  wall  of  a  house — these  do  find  the  punishment  of 
their  treacherous  and  disgusting  crimes  in  this  life. 
The  coward  who  is  guilt}^  of  such  sin  is  loathed  even 
by  the  mother  who  bore  him  and  has  to  skulk  in  by- 
ways, familiar  with  the  terrors  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
daring  not  to  turn  in  the  way  of  the  vineyards  to  enjoy 
their  fruit.  The  description  of  these  reprobates  ends 
with  the  twenty-first  verse,  and  then  there  is  a  return 
to  the  "  mighty "  and  the  Divine  support  they  appear 
to  enjoy. 

The  interpretation  of  verses  18-21  which  makes 
them  "  either  actually  in  part  the  work  of  a  popular 
hand,  or  a  parody  after  the  popular  manner  by  Job 
himself,"  has  no  sufficient  ground.  To  affirm  that 
the  passage  is  introduced  ironically  and  that  verse  22 
resumes  the  real  history  of  the  murderer,  the  adulterer, 
and  the  thief  is  to  neglect  the  distinction  between  those 


xxiii.,  xxiv.]  WHERE  IS  ELOAH  ?  297 

''  who  rebel  against  the  Hght "  and  the  mighty  who 
hve  in  the  eye  of  God.  The  natural  interpretation  is 
that  which  makes  the  whole  a  serious  argument  against 
the  creed  of  the  friends.  In  their  eagerness  to  convict 
Job  they  have  failed  to  distinguish  between  men  whose 
base  crimes  bring  them  under  social  reprobation  and 
the  proud  oppressors  who  prosper  through  very  arro- 
gance. Regarding  these  the  fact  still  holds  that 
apparently  they  are  under  the  protection  of  Heaven. 

'*  Yet  He  sustaineth  the  mighty  by  His  power, 
They  rise  tip  though  they  despaired  of  life. 
He  giveth  them  to  be  safe,  and  they  are  -upheld, 
And  His  eyes  are  upon  their  ways. 
They  rise  high:  in  a  moment  they  are  not; 
They  are  brought  low,  like  all  others  gathered  in, 
And  cut  off  as  the  tops  of  corn. 
If  not — who  then  will  make  me  a  liar. 
And  to  nothing  bring  my  speech?''' 

Is  the  daring  right-defying  evil-doer  wasted  by  dis- 
ease, preyed  upon  by  terror  ?  Not  so.  When  he 
appears  to  have  been  crushed,  suddenly  he  starts  up 
again  in  new  vigour,  and  when  he  dies,  it  is  not 
prematurely  but  in  the  ripeness  of  full  age.  With  this 
reaffirmation  of  the  mystery  of  God's  dealings  Job 
challenges  his  friends.  They  have  his  final  judgment. 
The  victory  he  gains  is  that  of  one  who  will  be  true  at 
all  hazards.  Perhaps  in  the  background  of  his  thought 
is  the  vision  of  a  redemption  not  only  of  his  own  life 
but  of  all  those  broken  by  the  injustice  and  cruelty  of 
this  earth. 


XXI. 

THE  DOMINION  AND   THE  BRIGHTNESS. 

BiLDAD    SPEAKS.       ChAP.    XXV. 

THE  argument  of  the  last  chapter  proceeded  entirely 
on  the  general  aspect  of  the  question  whether  the 
evil  are  punished  in  proportion  to  their  crimes.  Job 
has  met  his  friends  so  far  as  to  place  them  in  a  great 
difficulty.  They  cannot  assail  him  now  as  a  sort  of 
infidel.  And  yet  what  he  has  granted  does  not  yield 
the  main  ground.  They  cannot  deny  his  contrast  be- 
tween the  two  classes  of  evil-doers  nor  refuse  to  admit 
that  the  strong  oppressor  has  a  different  fate  from  the 
mean  adulterer  or  thief.  Bildad  therefore  confines 
himself  to  two  general  principles,  that  God  is  the 
supreme  administrator  of  justice  and  that  no  man  is 
clean.  He  will  not  now  affirm  that  Job  has  been  a 
tyrant  to  the  poor.  He  dares  not  call  him  a  murderer 
or  a  housebreaker.  A  snare  has  been  laid  for  him 
who  spoke  much  of  snares,  and|seeing  it  he  is  on  his 
guard. 

*^ Dominion  and  fear  are  with  Him; 
He  niaketh  peace  in  His  high  places, 
Is  there  any  number  of  His  armies  ? 
And  on  whom  doth  not  His  light  shine  ? 
How  then  can  man  be  just  w'ith  God  ? 
Or  how  can '  he  of  woman  born  be  clean  ? 
298 


XXV.]        THE  DOMINION  AND   THE  BRIGHTNESS.         299 

Behold,  even  the  moon  hath  no  brightness, 
And  the  stars  are  not  pure  in  His  sight. 
How  much  less  man  that  is  a  worm^ 
And  the  son  of  man,  the  worm  !  " 

The  brief  ode  has  a  certain  dignity  raising  it  above 
the  level  of  Bildad's  previous  utterances.  He  desires 
to  show  that  Job  has  been  too  bold  in  his  criticism  of 
providence.  God  has  sole  dominion  and  claims  uni- 
versal adoration.  Where  He  dwells  in  the  lofty  place 
of  unapproachable  glory  His  presence  and  rule  create 
peace.  He  is  the  Lord  of  innumerable  armies  (the 
stars  and  their  inhabitants  perhaps),  and  His  hght  fills 
the  breadth  of  interminable  space,  revealing  and  illumi- 
nating every  life.  Upon  this  assertion  of  the  majesty 
of  God  is  based  the  idea  of  His  holiness.  Before  so 
great  and  glorious  a  Being  how  can  man  be  righteous  ? 
The  universality  of  His  power  and  the  brightness  of 
His  presence  stand  in  contrast  to  the  narrow  range 
of  human  energy  and  the  darkness  of  the  human  mind. 
Behold,  says  Bildad,  the  moon  is  ecHpsed  by  a  glance 
of  the  great  Creator  and  the  stars  are  cast  into  shadow 
by  His  effulgence  ;  and  how  shall  man  whose  body  is 
of  the  earth  earthy  claim  any  cleanness  of  soul  ?  He 
is  like  the  worm ;  his  kinship  is  with  corruption ;  his 
place  is  in  the  dust  like  the  creeping  things  of  which 
he  becomes  the  prey. 

The  representation  of  God  in  His  exaltation  and 
glory  has  a  tone  of  impressive  piety  which  redeems 
Bildad  from  any  suspicion  of  insolence  at  this  point. 
He  is  including  himself  and  his  friends  among  those 
whose  lives  appear  impure  in  the  sight  of  Heaven.  He 
is  showing  that  successfully  as  Job  may  repel  the 
charges  brought  against  him,  there  is  at  all  events  one 
general  condemnation  in  which  with  all  men  he  must 


300  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


allow  himself  to  be  involved.  Is  he  not  a  feeble 
ignorant  man  whose  will  being  finite  must  be  imperfect? 
On  the  one  hand  is  the  pious  exaltation  of  God,  on  the 
other  the  pious  abasement  of  man. 

It  is,  however,  easy  to  see  that  Bildad  is  still  bound 
to  a  creed  of  the  superficial  kind  without  moral  depth 
or  spiritual  force.  The  ideas  are  those  of  a  nature 
religion  in  which  the  one  God  is  a  supreme  Baal  or 
Master,  monopolising  all  splendour.  His  purity  that  of 
the  fire  or  the  light.  We  are  shown  the  Lord  of  the 
visible  universe  whose  dwelling  is  in  the  high  heavens, 
whose  representative  is  the  bright  sun  from  the  light 
of  which  nothing  is  hidden.  It  is  easy  to  point  to  this 
splendid  apparition  and,  contrasting  man  with  the  great 
fire-force,  the  perennial  fountain  of  light,  to  say — How 
dark,  how  puny,  how  imperfect  is  man.  The  brilliance 
of  an  Arabian  sky  through  which  the  sun  marches  in 
unobstructed  glory  seems  in  complete  contrast  to  the 
darkness  of  human  life.  Yet,  is  it  fair,  is  it  competent 
to  argue  thus  ?  Is  anything  established  as  to  the 
moral  quality  of  mian  because  he  cannot  shine  like  the 
sun  or  even  with  the  lesser  light  of  moon  or  stars  ? 
One  may  allow  a  hint  of  strong  thought  in  the  suggestion 
that  boundless  majesty  and  power  are  necessary  to 
perfect  virtue,  that  the  Almighty  alone  can  be  entirely 
pure.  But  Bildad  cannot  be  said  to  grasp  this  idea. 
If  it  gleams  before  his  mind,  the  faint  flash  passes 
unrecognised.  He  has  not  wisdom  enough  to  work 
out  such  a  thought.  And  it  is  nature  that  according 
to  his  argument  really  condemns  man.  Job  is  bidden 
look  up  to  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  and  know 
himself  immeasurably  less  pure  than  they. 

But  the  truth  stands  untouched  that  man  whose 
body  is  doomed  to  corruption,  man  who  labours  after 


.]        THE  DOMINION  AND   THE  BRIGHTNESS.         301 


the  right,  with  the  heat  of  moral  energy  in  his  heart, 
moves  on  a  far  higher  plane  as  a  servant  of  God  than 
any  fiery  orb  which  pours  its  light  through  boundless 
space.  We  find  ignorance  of  man  and  therefore  of  his 
Maker  in  Bildad's  speech.  He  does  not  understand 
the  dignity  of  the  human  mind  in  its  straining  after 
righteousness.  '*  With  limitless  duration,  with  bound- 
less space  and  number  without  end,  Nature  does  at 
least  what  she  can  to  translate  into  visible  form  the 
wealth  of  the  creative  formula.  By  the  vastness  of 
the  abysses  into  which  she  penetrates  in  the  effort,  the 
unsuccessful  effort,  to  house  and  contain  the  eternal 
thought  we  may  measure  the  greatness  of  the  Divine 
mind.  For  as  soon  as  this  mind  goes  out  of  itself  and 
seeks  to  explain  itself,  the  effort  at  utterance  heaps 
universe  upon  universe  during  myriads  of  centuries, 
and  still  it  is  not  expressed  and  the  great  oration  must 
go  on  for  ever  and  ever."  The  inanimate  universe 
majestic,  ruled  by  eternal  law,  cannot  represent  the 
moral  qualities  of  the  Divine  mind,  and  the  attempt  to 
convict  a  thinking  man,  whose  soul  is  bent  on  truth 
and  purity,  by  the  splendour  of  that  light  which  dazzles 
his  eye,  comes  to  nothing. 

The  commonplaces  of  pious  thought  fall  stale  and 
flat  in  a  controversy  like  the  present.  Bildad  does  not 
realise  wherein  the  right  of  man  in  the  universe  consists. 
He  is  trying  in  vain  to  instruct  one  who  sees  that 
moral  desire  and  struggle  are  the  conditions  of  human 
greatness,  who  A,vill  not  be  overborne  by  material 
splendours  nor  convicted  by  the  accident  of  death. 


B 


XXII. 

THE  OUTSKIRTS  OF  HIS    WAYS. 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  xxvi.,  xxvii. 

EGINNING  his  reply  Job   is    full   of  scorn   and 
sarcasm. 

^^  How  hast  thou  helped  one  without  power  ! 
How  hast  thou  saved  the  strengthless  arm  ! 
How  hast  thou  counselled  one  void  of  knowledge, 
And  plentifully  declared  the  thing  that  is  known  !  " 

Well  indeed  hast  thou  spoken,  O  man  of  singular 
intelligence.  I  am  very  weak,  my  arm  is  powerless. 
What  reassurance,  what  generous  help  thou  hast  pro- 
vided !  I,  doubtless,  know  nothing,  and  thou  hast 
showered  illumination  on  my  darkness. — His  irony  is 
bitter.  Bildad  appears  almost  contemptible.  "  To 
whom  hast  thou  uttered  words  ?'^  Is  it  thy  mission  to 
instruct  me  ?  "  And  whose  spirit  came  forth  from  thee  ?  " 
Dost  thou  claim  Divine  inspiration  ?  Job  is  rancorous  ; 
and  we  are  scarcely  intended  by  the  writer  to  justify 
him.  Yet  it  is  galling  indeed  to  hear  that  calm  repeti- 
tion of  the  most  ordinary  ideas  when  the  controversy 
has  been  carried  into  the  deep  waters  of  thought.  Job 
desired  bread  and  is  offered  a  stone. 

But  since  Bildad  has  chosen  to  descant  upon  the 
greatness  and  imperial  power  of  God,  the  subject  shall 
be  continued.     He  shall  be  taken  into  the  abyss  beneath, 

302 


xxvi.,  xxvii.]     THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF  HIS   WAYS.  303 

where  faith  recognises  the  Divine  presence,  and  to  the 
heights  above  that  he  may  learn  how  little  of  the 
dominion  of  God  lies  within  the  range  of  a  mind  like 
his,  or  indeed  of  mortal  sense. 

First  there  is  a  vivid  glance  at  that  mysterious 
under-world  where  the  shades  or  spirits  of  the  departed 
survive  in  a  dim  vague  existence. 

"  The  shades  are  shaken 
Beneath  the  waters  and  their  inhabitants. 
Sheol  is  naked  before  Him, 
And  Abaddon  hath  no  covering." 

Bildad  has  spoken  of  the  lofty  place  where  God  makes 
peace.  But  that  same  God  has  the  sovereignty  also 
of  the  nether  world.  Under  the  bed  of  the  ocean  and 
those  subterranean  waters  that  flow  beneath  the  solid 
ground  where,  in  the  impenetrable  darkness,  poor 
shadows  of  their  former  selves,  those  who  lived  once 
on  earth  congregate  age  after  age — there  the  power  of 
the  Almighty  is  revealed.  He  does  not  always  exert 
His  will  in  order  to  create  tranquillity.  Down  in  Sheol 
the  refaim  are  agitated.  And  nothing  is  hid  from  His 
eye.  Abaddon,  the  devouring  abyss,  is  naked  before 
Him. 

Let  us  distinguish  here  between  the  imagery  and  the 
underlying  thought,  the  inspired  vision  of  the  writer 
and  the  form  in  which  Job  is  made  to  present  it. 
These  notions  about  Sheol  as  a  dark  cavern  below 
earth  and  ocean  to  which  the  spirits  of  the  dead  are 
supposed  to  descend  are  the  common  beliefs  of  the  age. 
They  represent  opinion,  not  reality.  But  there  is  a 
new  flash  of  inspiration  in  the  thought  that  God  reigns 
over  the  abode  of  the  dead,  that  even  if  men  escape 
punishment  here,  the  judgments  of  the  Almighty  may 
reach  them  there.     This  is   the  writer's  prophetic  in- 


304  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

sight  into  fact ;  and  he  properly  assigns  the  thought 
to  his  hero  who,  already  almost  at  the  point  of  death, 
has  been  straining  as  it  were  to  see  what  lies  beyond 
the  gloomy  gate.  The  poetry  is  infused  with  the 
spirit  of  inquiry  into  God's  government  of  the  present 
and  the  future.  Set  beside  other  passages  both  in 
the  Old  and  New  Testaments  this  is  found  continuous 
with  higher  revelations,  even  with  the  testimony  of 
Christ  when  He  says  that  God  is  Lord  not  of  the  dead 
but  of  the  living. 

From  Sheol,  the  under-world.  Job  points  to  the 
northern  heavens  ablaze  with  stars.  God,  he  says, 
stretches  that  wonderful  dome  over  empty  space — the 
immovable  polar  star  probably  appearing  to  mark  the 
point  of  suspension.  The  earth,  again,  hangs  in  space 
on  nothing,  even  this  solid  earth  on  which  men  live  and 
build  their  cities.  The  writer  is  of  course  ignorant  of 
what  modern  science  teaches,  but  he  has  caught  the 
fact  which  no  modern  knowledge  can  deprive  of  its 
marvellous  character.  Then  the  gathering  in  immense 
volumes  of  watery  vapour,  how  strange  is  that,  the 
filmy  clouds  holding  rains  that  deluge  a  continent, 
yet  not  rent  asunder.  One  who  is  wonderful  in 
counsel  must  indeed  have  ordered  this  universe ;  but 
His  throne,  the  radiant  seat  of  His  everlasting  dominion, 
He  shutteth  in  with  clouds ;  it  is  never  seen. 

"  A  bound  He  hath  set  on  the  face  of  the  waters, 
On  the  confines  of  light  and  darkness. 
The  pillars  of  heaven  tremble 
And  are  astonished  at  His  rebuke. 
He  stilleth  the  sea  with  His  power; 

And  by  His  understanding  He  smites  through  Rahab  : 
By  His  breath  the  heavens  are  made  bright ; 
His  hand  pierceth  the  fleeing  serpent. 
Lo,  these  are  the  outskirts  of  His  ways, 


xxvi.,  xxvii.]     THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF  HIS   WAYS.  305 

And  zvJiat  a  whisper  is  that  which  we  hear  of  Him  ! 
But  the  thunder  of  His  powers  who  can  apprehend?^' 

At  the  confines  of  light  and  darkness  God  sets  a 
boundary,  the  visible  horizon,  the  ocean  being  sup- 
posed to  girdle  the  earth  on  every  side.  The  pillars 
of  heaven  are  the  mountains,  which  might  be  seen 
in  various  directions  apparently  supporting  the  sky. 
With  awe  men  looked  upon  them,  with  greater  awe 
felt  them  sometimes  shaken  by  mysterious  throbs  as 
if  at  God's  rebuke.  From  these  the  poet  passes  to  the 
sea,  the  great  storm  waves  that  roll  upon  the  shore. 
God  smites  through  Rahab,  subdues  the  fierce  sea — 
represented  as  a  raging  monster.  Here,  as  in  the 
succeeding  verse  where  the  fleeing  serpent  is  spoken  of, 
reference  is  made  to  nature-myths  current  in  the  East. 
The  old  ideas  of  heathen  imagination  are  used  simply 
in  a  poetical  way.  Job  does  not  believe  in  a  dragon 
of  the  sea,  but  it  suits  him  to  speak  of  the  stormy 
ocean-current  under  this  figure  so  as  to  give  vividness 
to  his  picture  of  Divine  power.  God  quells  the  wild 
waves ;  His  breath  as  a  soft  wind  clears  away  the 
storm  clouds  and  the  blue  sky  is  seen  again.  The 
hand  of  God  pierces  the  fleeing  serpent,  the  long  track 
of  angry  clouds  borne  swiftly  across  the  face  of  the 
heavens. 

The  closing  words  of  the  chapter  are  a  testimony  to 
the  Divine  greatness,  negative  in  form  yet  in  effect 
more  eloquent  than  all  the  rest.  It  is  but  the  outskirts 
of  the  ways  of  God  we  see,  a  whisper  of  Him  we  hear. 
The  full  thunder  falls  not  on  our  ears.  He  who  sits 
on  the  throne  which  is  for  ever  shrouded  in  clouds 
and  darkness  is  the  Creator  of  the  visible  universe  but 
always  separate  from  it.  He  reveals  Himself  in  what 
we  see  and  hear,   yet   the  glory,  the  majesty  remain 

20 


306  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

concealed.  The  sun  is  not  God,  nor  the  storm,  nor 
the  clear  shining  after  rain.  The  writer  is  still  true 
to  the  principle  of  never  making  nature  equal  to 
God.  Even  v/here  the  religion  is  in  form  a  nature 
religion,  separateness  is  fully  maintained.  The  pheno- 
mena of  the  universe  are  but  faint  adumbrations  of  the 
Divine  life.  Bildad  may  come  short  of  the  full  clear- 
ness of  belief,  but  Job  has  it.  The  great  circle  of 
existence  the  eye  is  able  to  include  is  but  the  skirt  of 
that  garment  by  which  the  Almighty  is  seen. 

The  question  may  be  asked,  What  place  has  this 
poetical  tribute  to  the  majesty  of  God  in  the  argument 
of  the  book  ?  Viewed  simply  as  an  effort  to  outdo 
and  correct  the  utterance  of  Bildad  the  speech  is  not 
fully  explained.  We  ask  further  what  is  meant  to 
be  in  Job's  mind  at  this  particular  point  in  the  dis- 
cussion; whether  he  is  secretly  complaining  that  power 
and  dominion  so  wide  are  not  manifested  in  executing 
justice  on  earth,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  comforting 
himself  with  the  thought  that  judgment  will  yet  return 
to  righteousness  and  the  Most  High  be  proved  the 
All-just  ?  The  inquiry  has  special  importance  because, 
looking  forward  in  the  book,  we  find  that  when  the 
voice  of  God  is  heard  from  the  storm  it  proclaims  His 
matchless  power  and  incomparable  wisdom. 

At  present  it  must  suffice  to  say  that  Job  is  now 
made  to  come  very  near  his  final  discovery  that  com- 
plete reliance  upon  Eloah  is  not  simply  the  fate  but 
the  privilege  of  man.  Fully  to  understand  Divine 
providence  is  impossible,  but  it  can  be  seen  that  One 
who  is  supreme  in  power  and  infinite  in  wisdom, 
responsible  always  to  Himself  for  the  exercise  of  His 
power,  should  have  the  complete  confidence  of  His 
creatures.     Of  this  truth  Job  lays  hold ;  by  strenuous 


xxvi.,xxvii.]     THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF  HIS    WAYS.  307 

thought  he  has  forced  his  way  almost  through  the 
tangled  forest,  and  he  is  a  type  of  man  at  his  best 
on  the  natural  plane.  The  world  waited  for  the  clear 
light  which  solves  the  difficulties  of  faith.  While  once 
and  again  a  flash  came  before  Christ;  He  brought  the 
abiding  revelation,  the  dayspring  from  on  high  which 
giveth  light  to  them  that  sit  in  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  death. 

According  to  his  manner  Job  turns  now  from  a 
subject  which  may  be  described  as  speculative  to  his 
own  position  and  experience.  The  earlier  part  of 
chap,  xxvii.  is  an  earnest  declaration  in  the  strain  he 
has  always  maintained.  As  vehemently  as  ever  he 
renews  his  claim  to  integrity,  emphasizing  it  with  a 
solemn  adjuration. 

^'  As  God  liveth  who  hath  taken  away  my  right. 
And  the  Almighty  who  hath  embittered  my  soul ; 
{For  still  my  life  is  whole  in  me, 
And  the  breath  of  the  High  God  in  my  nostrils). 
My  lips  do  not  speak  iniquity. 
Nor  does  my  tongue  utter  deceit. 
Far  be  it  from,  me  to  justify  you  ; 
Till  I  die  I  will  not  remove  my  integrity  from  me. 
My  righteousness  I  hold  fast,  and  let  it  not  go ; 
My  heart  reproacheth  not  any  of  my  days." 

This  is  in  the  old  tone  of  confident  self-defence. 
God  has  taken  away  his  right,  denied  him  the  outward 
signs  of  innocence,  the  opportunity  of  pleading  his 
cause.  Yet,  as  a  believer,  he  swears  by  the  Hfe  of 
God  that  he  is  a  true  man,  a  righteous  man.  Whatever 
betides  he  will  not  fall  from  that  conviction  and  claim. 
And  let  no  one  say  that  pain  has  impaired  his  reason, 
that  now  if  never  before  he  is  speaking  deliriously. 
No :  his  life  is  whole  in   him  ;  God-given  life   is  his, 


3o8  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

and  with  the  consciousness  of  it  he  speaks,  not  ignorant 
of  what  is  a  man's  duty,  not  with  a  lie  in  his  right 
hand,  but  wdth  absolute  sincerity.  He  will  not  justify 
his  accusers,  for  that  would  be  to  deny  righteousness, 
the  very  rock  which  alone  is  firm  beneath  his  feet. 
Knowing  what  is  a  man's  obligation  to  his  fellow-men 
and  to  God  he  will  repeat  his  self-defence.  He  goes 
back  upon  his  past,  he  reviews  his  days.  Upon  none 
of  them  can  his  conscience  fix  the  accusation  of 
deliberate  baseness  or  rebellion  against  God. 

Having  affirmed  his  sincerity  Job  proceeds  to  show 
what  would  be  the  result  of  deceit  and  h3^pocrisy  at 
so  solemn  a  crisis  of  his  life.  The  underlying  idea 
seems  to  be  that  of  communion  with  the  Most  High, 
the  spiritual  fellowship  necessary  to  man's  inner  life. 
He  could  not  speak  falsely  without  separating  himself 
from  God  and  therefore  from  hope.  As  yet  he  is  not 
rejected ;  the  consciousness  of  truth  remains  with  him, 
and  through  that  he  is  in  touch  at  least  with  Eloah. 
No  voice  from  on  high  answers  him  ;  yet  this  Divine 
principle  of  life  remains  in  his  soul.  Shall  he  renounce 
it? 

**  Let  mine  enemy  be  as  the  wicked^ 
And  he  that  riseth  against  me  as  the  tinrighteous.'''' 

If  I  have  aught  to  do  with  a  wicked  man  such  as  I 
am  now  to  describe,  one  who  would  pretend  to  pure 
and  godly  life  while  he  had  behaved  in  impious  defiance 
of  righteousness,  if  I  have  to  do  with  such  a  man,  let 
it  be  as  an  enemy. 

^^  For  what  is  the  hope  of  the  godless  ivhoni  He  cutteth  off, 
When  God  taketh  his  soul  ? 
Will  God  hear  his  cry 
When  trouble  comeih  upon  him.  ? 
Will  he  delight  himself  in  the  Almighty 
And  call  upon  Eloah  at  all  times?" 


xxvi.,  xxvii.]     THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF  HIS   WAYS.  309 

The  topic  is  access  to  God  by  prayer,  tliat  sense 
of  security  which  depends  on  the  Divine  friendship. 
There  comes  one  moment  at  least,  there  may  be  many, 
in  which  earthly  possessions  are  seen  to  be  worthless 
and  the  help  of  the  Almighty  is  alone  of  any  avail. 
In  order  to  enjoy  hope  at  such  a  time  a  man  must 
habitually  live  with  God  in  sincere  obedience.  The 
godless  man  previously  described,  the  thief,  the  adul- 
terer whose  whole  life  is  a  cowardly  lie,  is  cut  off  from 
the  Almighty.  He  finds  no  resource  in  the  Divine 
friendship.  To  call  upon  God  always  is  no  privilege 
of  his;  he  has  lost  it  by  neglect  and  revolt.  Job 
speaks  of  the  case  of  such  a  man  as  in  contrast  to  his 
own.  Although  his  own  prayers  remain  apparently  un- 
answered he  has  a  reserve  of  faith  and  hope.  Before 
God  he  can  still  assure  himself  as  the  servant  of  His 
righteousness,  in  fellowship  with  Him  who  is  eternally 
true.  The  address  closes  with  these  words  of  retro- 
spection (vv.  II,  12)  : — 

"/  would  teach  you  concerning  the  hand  of  God, 
That  voJiich  is  with  Shaddai  would  I  not  conceal. 
Behold,  all  ye  yourselves  have  seen  it ; 
Why  then  are  ye  become  altogether  vain  ?  " 

At  this  point  begins  a  passage  which  creates  great 
difficulty.  It  is  ascribed  to  Job,  but  is  entirely  out  of 
harmony  with  all  he  has  said.  May  we  accept  the 
conjecture  that  it  is  the  missing  third  speech  of  Zophar, 
erroneously  incorporated  with  the  "  parable  "  of  Job  ? 
Do  the  contents  warrant  this  departure  from  the  received 
text? 

All  along  Job's  contention  has  been  that  though  an 
evil-doer  could  have  no  fellowship  with  God,  no  joy  in 
God,  yet  such  a  man  might  succeed  in  his  schemes, 
amass  wealth,  live  in  glory,  go  down  to  his  grave  in 


3IO  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


peace.  Yea,  he  might  be  laid  in  a  stately  tomb  and 
the  very  clods  of  the  valley  might  be  sweet  to  him. 
Job  has  not  affirmed  this  to  be  always  the  history  of 
one  who  defies  the  Divine  law.  But  he  has  said  that 
often  it  is ;  and  the  deep  darkness  in  which  he  himself 
lies  is  not  caused  so  much  by  his  calamity  and  disease 
as  by  the  doubt  forced  upon  him  whether  the  Most  High 
does  rule  in  steadfast  justice  on  this  earth.  How  comes 
it,  he  has  cried  again  and  again,  that  the  wicked  prosper 
and  the  good  are  often  reduced  to  poverty  and  sorrow? 
Now  does  the  passage  from  the  twelfth  verse  onwards 
correspond  with  this  strain  of  thought  ?  It  describes 
the  fate  of  the  wicked  oppressor  in  strong  language — 
defeat,  desolation,  terror,  rejection  by  God,  rejection  by 
men.  His  children  are  multiplied  only  for  the  sword. 
Sons  die  and  widows  are  left  disconsolate.  His  trea- 
sures, his  garments  shall  not  be  for  his  delight ;  the 
innocent  shall  enjoy  his  substance.  His  sudden  death 
shall  be  in  shame  and  agony,  and  men  shall  clap  their 
hands  at  him  and  hiss  him  out  of  his  place.  Clearly, 
if  Job  is  the  speaker,  he  must  be  giving  up  all  he  has 
hitherto  contended  for,  admitting  that  his  friends  have 
argued  truly,  that  after  all  judgment  does  fall  in  this 
world  upon  arrogant  men.  The  motive  of  the  whole 
controversy  would  be  lost  if  Job  yielded  this  point. 
It  is  not  as  if  the  passage  ran.  This  or  that  may  take 
place,  this  or  that  may  befall  the  evil-doer.  Eliphaz, 
Bildad,  and  Zophar  never  present  more  strongly  their 
own  view  than  that  view  is  presented  here.  Nor  can 
it  be  said  that  the  writer  may  be  preparing  for  the 
confession  Job  makes  after  the  Almighty  has  spoken 
from  the  storm.  When  he  gives  way  then,  it  is  only 
to  the  extent  of  withdrawing  his  doubts  of  the  wisdom 
and  justice  of  the  Divine  rule. 


xxvi.  xxvii.]     THE   OUTSKIRTS   OF  HIS    WAYS.  311 

The  suggestion  that  Job  is  here  reciting  the  state- 
ments of  his  friends  cannot  be  entertained.  To  read 
''Why  are  ye  altogether  vain,  saying.  This  is  the 
portion  of  the  wicked  man  from  God,"  is  incompatible 
with  the  long  and  detailed  account  of  the  oppressor's 
overthrow  and  punishment.  There  would  be  no  point 
or  force  in  mere  recapitulation  without  the  sHghtest 
irony  or  caricature.  The  passage  is  in  grim  earnest. 
On  the  other  hand,  to  imagine  that  Job  is  modifying 
his  former  language  is,  as  Dr.  A.  B.  Davidson  shows, 
equally  out  of  the  question.  With  his  own  sons  and 
daughters  lying  in  their  graves,  his  own  riches  dispersed, 
would  he  be  likely  to  say — ^^  If  his  children  be  multiplied 
it  is  for  the  sword  ^^  ?  and 

"  Though  he  heap  up  silver  as  the  dust, 
And  prepare  rahnent  as  the  clay; 
He  may  prepare  it,  hut  the  just  shall  put  it  on 
And  the  innocent  shall  divide  the  silver''''^. 

Against  supposing  this  to  be  Zophar's  third  speech 
the  arguments  drawn  from  the  brevity  of  Bildad's  last 
utterance  and  the  exhaustion  of  the  subjects  of  debate 
have  little  weight,  and  there  are  distinct  points  of 
resemblance  between  the  passage  under  consideration 
and  Zophar's  former  addresses.  Assuming  it  to  be  his, 
it  is  seen  to  begin  precisely  where  he  left  off; — only  he 
adopts  the  distinction  Job  has  pointed  out  and  confines 
himself  now  to  "  oppressors."  His  last  speech  closed 
with  the  sentence  :  "  This  is  the  portion  of  a  wicked 
man  from  God,  and  the  heritage  appointed  unto  him  by 
God."  He  begins  here  (ver.  13)  :  "This  is  the  portion 
of  a  wicked  man  with  God,  and  the  heritage  of  oppressors 
which  they  receive  from  the  Almighty."  Again,  with- 
out verbal  identity,  the  expressions  "God  shall  cast 
the  fierceness  of  His  wrath  upon  him  "  (chap.  xx.  23), 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


and  "  God  shall  hurl  upon  him  and  not  spare " 
(chap,  xxvii.  21),  show  the  same  style  of  representation, 
as  also  do  the  following  :  ''  Terrors  are  upon  him.  .  .  . 
His  goods  shall  flow  away  in  the  day  of  his  wrath" 
(chap.  XX.  25,  28),  and  "Terrors  overtake  him  like 
waters"  (chap,  xxvii.  20).  Other  similarities  may  be 
easily  traced ;  and  on  the  whole  it  seems  by  far  the 
best  explanation  of  an  otherwise  incomprehensible 
passage  to  suppose  that  here  Zophar  is  holding  doggedly 
to  opinions  which  the  other  two  friends  have  renounced. 
Job  could  not  have  spoken  the  passage,  and  there  is 
no  reason  for  considering  it  to  be  an  interpolation  by 
a  later  hand. 


XXIII. 

CHORAL  INTERLUDE, 
.    Chap,  xxviii. 

THE  controversy  at  length  closed,  the  poet  breaks 
into  a  chant  of  the  quest  of  Wisdom.  It  can 
hardly  be  supposed  to  have  been  uttered  or  sung 
by  Job.  But  if  we  may  go  so  far  as  to  imagine  a 
chorus  after  the  manner  of  the  Greek  dramas,  this 
ode  would  fitly  come  as  a  choral  descant  reflecting 
on  the  vain  attempts  made  alike  by  Job  and  by 
his  friends  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of  Divine  provi- 
dence. How  poor  and  unsatisfying  is  all  that  has 
been  said.  To  fathom  the  purposes  of  the  Most  High, 
to  trace  through  the  dark  shadows  and  entanglements 
of  human  life  that  unerring  righteousness  with  which 
all  events  are  ordered  and  overruled — how  far  was 
this  above  the  sagacity  of  the  speakers.  Now  and 
again  true  things  have  been  said,  now  and  again 
glimpses  of  that  vindication  of  the  good  which  should 
compensate  for  all  their  sufferings  have  brightened 
the  controversy.  But  the  reconciliation  has  not  been 
found.  The  purposes  of  the  Most  High  remain  un- 
traced.  The  poet  is  fully  aware  of  this,  aware  even 
that  on  the  ground  of  argument  he  is  unable  to  work 
out  the  problem  which  he  has  opened.  With  an  under- 
tone of  wistful  sadness,  remembering  passages  of  his 

313 


SH  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

country's  poetry  that  ran  in  too  joyous  a  strain,  as  if 
wisdom  lay  within  the  range  of  human  ken,  he  suspends 
the  action  of  the  drama  for  a  Httle  to  interpose  this  cry 
of  hmitation  and  unrest.  There  is  no  complaint  that 
God  keeps  in  his  own  hand  subUme  secrets  of  Design. 
What  is  man  that  he  should  be  discontented  with  his 
place  and  power  ?  It  is  enough  for  him  that  the  Great 
God  rules  in  righteous  sovereignty,  gives  him  laws  of 
conduct  to  be  obeyed  in  reverence,  shows  him  the  evil 
he  is  to  avoid,  the  good  he  is  to  follow.  "  The  things 
of  God  knoweth  no  man,  but  the  Spirit  of  God."  Those 
who  have  a  world  to  explore  and  use,  the  Almighty  to 
adore  and  trust,  if  they  must  seek  after  the  secret  of 
existence  and  ever  feel  themselves  baffled  in  the  endea- 
vour, may  still  live  nobly,  bear  patiently,  find  blessed 
Hfe  within  the  limit  God  has  set. 

First  the  industry  of  man  is  depicted,  that  search 
for  the  hidden  things  of  the  earth  which  is  significant 
alike  of  the  craving  and  ingenuity  of  the  human  mind. 

"  Surely  there  is  a  mine  for  silver 
And  a  place  for  gold  which  they  refine. 
Iron  is  taken  out  of  the  earth. 
And  copper  is  molten  out  of  the  stone. 
Man  setteth  an  end  to  darkness, 
And  searcheth,  to  the  furthest  bound, 
The  stones  of  darkness  and  deathful  gloom. 
He  breaks  a  shaft  away  from  where  men  dwell ; 
They  are  forgotten  of  the  foot ; 
Afar  from  men  they  hang  and  swing  to  and  fro. ^'' 

The  poet  has  seen,  perhaps  in  Idumsea  or  in  Midian 
where  mines  of  copper  and  gold  were  wrought  by  the 
Egyptians,  the  various  operations  here  described.  Dig- 
ging or  quarrying,  driving  tunnels  horizontally  into  the 
hills  or  sinking  shafts  in  the  valleys,  letting  themselves 
down  by  ropes  from   the  edge  of  a  cliff  to  reach  the 


xxviii.]  CHORAL  INTERLUDE.  315 


vein,  then,  suspended  in  mid  air,  hewing  at  the  ore, 
the  miners  variously  ply  their  craft.  Away  in  remote 
gorges  of  the  hills  the  pits  they  have  dug  remain 
abandoned,  forgotten.  The  long  winding  passages 
they  make  seem  to  track  to  the  utmost  limit  the  stones 
of  darkness,  stones  that  are  black  with  the  richness  of 
the  ore. 

On  the  earth's  surface  men  till  their  fields,  but  the 
hidden  treasures  that  lie  below  are  more  valuable  than 
the  harvest  of  maize  or  wheat. 

"  As  for  the  earth,  out  of  it  cometh  bread ; 
And  from  beneath  it  is  turned  up  as  by  fire. 
The  stones  thereof  are  the  place  of  sapphires. 
And  it  hath  dust  of  gold." 

The  reference  to  fire  as  an  agent  in  turning  up  the 
earth  appears  to  mark  a  volcanic  district,  but  sapphires 
and  gold  are  found  either  in  alluvial  soil  or  associated 
with  gneiss  and  quartz.  Perhaps  the  fire  was  that  used 
by  the  miners  to  split  refractory  rock.  And  the  cunning 
of  man  is  seen  in  this,  that  he  carries  into  the  very 
heart  of  the  mountains  a  path  which  no  vulture  or 
falcon  ever  saw,  which  the  proud  beasts  and  fierce 
lions  have  not  trodden. 

"  He  puts  forth  his  hand  upon  the  flinty  rock, 
He  overturneth  naountains  by  the  roots.'''' 

Slowly  indeed  as  compared  with  modern  work  of  the 
kind,  yet  surely,  where  those  earnest  toilers  desired  a 
way,  excavations  went  on  and  tunnels  were  formed 
with  wedge  and  hammer  and  pickaxe.  The  skill  of 
man  in  providing  tools  and  devising  methods,  and  his 
patience  and  assiduity  made  him  master  of  the  very 
mountains.  And  when  he  had  found  the  ore  he  could 
extract  its  precious  metal  and  gems. 


3i6  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

** He  cutteth  out  channels  among  the  rocks; 
And  his  eye  seeth  every  precious  thing. 
He  bindeth  Ike  streams  that  they  trickle  not ; 
And  the  hidden  thing  brings  he  forth  to  lights 

For  washing  his  ore  when  it  has  been  crushed  he 
needs  suppHes  of  water,  and  to  this  end  makes  long 
aqueducts.  In  Idumsea  a  whole  range  of  reservoirs 
may  still  be  seen,  by  means  of  which  even  in  the  dry 
season  the  work  of  gold-washing  might  be  carried  on 
without  interruption.  No  particle  of  the  precious 
metal  escaped  the  quick  eye  of  the  practised  miner. 
And  again,  if  water  began  to  percolate  into  his  shaft  or 
tunnel,  he  had  skill  to  bind  the  streams  that  his  search 
might  not  be  hindered. 

Such  then  is  man's  skill,  such  are  his  perseverance 
and  success  in  the  quest  of  things  he  counts  valuable — 
iron  for  his  tools,  copper  to  fashion  into  vessels,  gold 
and  silver  to  adorn  the  crowns  of  kings,  sapphires  to 
gleam  upon  their  raiment.  And  if  in  the  depths  of 
earth  or  anywhere  the  secrets  of  life  could  be  reached, 
men  of  eager  adventurous  spirit  would  sooner  or  later 
find  them  out. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that,  in  the  account  given  here  of 
the  search  after  hidden  things,  attention  is  confined  to 
mining  operations.  And  this  may  appear  strange,  the 
general  subject  being  the  quest  of  wisdom,  that  is  under- 
standing of  the  principles  and  methods  by  which  the 
Divine  government  of  the  world  is  carried  on.  There 
was  in  those  days  a  method  of  research,  widely  prac- 
tised, to  which  some  allusion  might  have  been  expected 
— the  so-called  art  of  astrology.  The  Chaldaeans  had 
for  centuries  observed  the  stars,  chronicled  their  appa- 
rent movements,  measured  the  distances  of  the  planets 
from  each  other  in  their  unexplained  progress  through 


xxviii.]  CHORAL  INTERLUDE.  317 

the  constellations.  On  this  survey  of  the  heavens  was 
built  up  a  whole  code  of  rules  for  predicting  events.  The 
stars  which  culminated  at  the  time  of  any  one's  birth, 
the  planets  visible  when  an  undertaking  was  begun,  were 
supposed  to  indicate  prosperity  or  disaster.  The  author 
of  the  Book  of  Job  could  not  be  ignorant  of  this  art. 
Why  does  he  not  mention  it  ?  Why  does  he  not  point 
out  that  by  watching  the  stars  man  seeks  in  vain  to 
penetrate  Divine  secrets  ?  And  the  reply  would  seem 
to  be  that  keeping  absolute  silence  in  regard  to  astrology 
he  meant  to  refuse  it  as  a  method  of  inquiry.  Patient, 
eager  labour  among  the  rocks  and  stones  is  the  type 
of  fruitful  endeavour.  Astrology  is  not  in  any  way 
useful ;  nothing  is  reached  by  that  method  of  questioning 
nature. 

The  poet  proceeds  : — 

"  Where  shall  wisdom  he  founds 
Atid  where  is  the  place  of  understanding? 
Man  knoweth  not  the  way  thereof^ 
Neither  is  it  to  be  found  in  the  land  of  the  living. 
The  deep  saith,  It  is  not  in  me ; 
And  the  sea  saith,  It  is  not  with  me.'" 

The  whole  range  of  the  physical  cosmos,  whether 
open  to  the  examination  of  man  or  beyond  his  reach, 
is  here  declared  incipable  of  supplying  the  clue  to  that 
underlying  idea  by  which  the  course  of  things  is  ordered. 
The  land  of  the  living  is  the  surface  of  the  earth  which 
men  inhabit.  The  deep  is  the  under-world.  Neither 
there  nor  in  the  sea  is  the  great  secret  to  be  found. 
As  for  its  price,  however  earnestly  men  may  desire  to 
possess  themselves  of  it,  no  treasures  are  of  any  use 
it  is  not  to  be  bought  in  any  market. 

"Never  is  wisdom  got  for  gold, 
Nor  for  its  price  can  silver  be  told. 


3i8  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

For  the  gold  of  Ophir  it  may  not  be  won, 
The  onyx  rare  or  the  sapphire  stone. 
Gold  is  no  measure  and  glass  no  hire, 
Jewels  of  gold  twice  fined  by  fire. 
Coral  and  crystal  tell  in  vain, 
Pearls  of  the  deep  for  wisdom's  gain. 
Topaz  of  Cush  avails  thee  nought, 
Nor  with  gold  of  glory  is  it  bought.'' 

While  wisdom  is  thus  of  value  incommensurate  with  all 
else  men  count  precious  and  rare,  it  is  equally  beyond 
the  reach  of  all  other  forms  of  mundane  life.  The 
birds  that  soar  high  into  the  atmosphere  see  nothing 
of  it,  nor  does  any  creature  that  wanders  far  into 
uninhabitable  wilds.  Abaddon  and  Death  indeed,  the 
devouring  abyss  and  that  silent  world  which  seems  to 
gather  and  keep  all  secrets,  have  heard  a  rumour  of  it. 
Beyond  the  range  of  mortal  sense  some  hint  there  may 
be  of  a  Divine  plan  governing  the  mutations  of  existence, 
the  fulfilment  of  which  will  throw  light  on  the  under- 
world where  the  spirits  of  the  departed  wait  in  age-long 
night.  But  death  has  no  knowledge  any  more  than 
life.  Wisdom  is  God's  prerogative,  His  activities  are 
His  own  to  order  and  fulfil. 

"  God  understandeth  the  way  thereof, 
And  He  knoweth  the  place  thereof 
For  He  looketh  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
And  seeth  under  the  whole  heaven. 
Making  weight  for  the  winds ; 
And  He  meteth  out  the  waters  by  measure. 
When  He  made  a  decree  for  the  rain, 
And  a  way  for  the  lightning  of  thunder, 
Then  did  He  see  it  and  number  it, 
He  established  it,  yea,  and  searched  it  out.''' 

The  evolution,  as  we  should  say,  of  the  order  of 
nature  gives  fixed  and  visible  embodiment  to  the 
wisdom   of  God.     We   must  conclude,  therefore,  that 


xxviii.]  CHORAL  INTERLUDE.  319 

the  poet  indicates  the  complete  idea  of  the  world  as  a 
cosmos  governed  by  subtle  all-pervading  law  for  moral 
ends.  The  creation  of  the  visible  universe  is  assumed 
to  begin,  and  with  the  created  before  Him  God  sees  its 
capacities,  determines  the  use  to  which  its  forces  are 
to  be  put,  the  relation  all  things  are  to  have  to  each 
other,  to  the  life  of  man  and  to  His  own  glory.  But 
the  hokhma  or  understanding  of  this  remains  for  ever 
beyond  the  discovery  of  the  human  intellect.  Man 
knoweth  not  the  way  thereof.  The  forces  of  earth  and 
air  and  sea  and  the  deep  that  lieth  under  do  not  reveal 
the  secret  of  their  w^orking ;  they  are  but  instruments. 
And  the  end  of  all  is  not  to  be  found  in  Sheol,  in  the 
silent  world  of  the  dead.  God  Himself  is  the  Alpha 
and  Omega,  the  First  and  the  Last. 

Yet  man  has  his  life  and  his  law.  Though  intellectual 
understanding  of  his  world  and  destiny  may  fail  how- 
ever earnestly  he  pursues  the  quest,  he  should  obtain 
the  knowledge  that  comes  by  reverence  and  obedience. 
He  can  adore  God,  he  can  distinguish  good  from  evil 
and  seek  what  is  right  and  true.  There  lies  his  hokhma, 
there,  says  the  poet,  it  must  continue  to  lie. 

*' And  unto  man  He  said, 
Behold  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom, 
And  to  depart  from  evil  is  ttnderstandiyig." 

The  conclusion  lays  a  hush  upon  man's  thought — but 
leaves  it  with  a  doctrine  of  God  and  faith  reaching  above 
the  limitations  of  time  and  sense.  Reverence  for  the 
Divine  will  not  fully  known  the  pursuit  of  holiness  and 
in  the  fear  of  God  are  no  agnosticism,  they  are  the 
true  springs  of  religious  life. 


XXIV. 

AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE   KING. 
Job  speaks.     Chaps,  xxix.-xxxi. 

FROM  the  pain  and  desolation  to  which  he  has 
become  inured  as  a  pitiable  second  state  of 
existence,  Job  looks  back  to  the  years  of  prosperity 
and  health  which  in  long  succession  he  once  enjoyed. 
This  parable  or  review  of  the  past  ends  his  contention. 
Honour  and  blessedness  are  apparently  denied  him  for 
ever.  With  what  has  been  he  compares  his  present 
misery  and  proceeds  to  a  bold  and  noble  vindication  of 
his  character  ahke  from  secret  and  from  flagrant  sins. 
In  the  whole  circle  of  Job's  lamentations  this  chant 
is  perhaps  the  most  affecting.  The  language  is  very 
beautiful,  in  the  finest  style  of  the  poet,  and  the  minor 
cadences  of  the  music  are  such  as  many  of  us  can 
sympathise  with.  When  the  years  of  youth  go  by  and 
strength  wanes,  the  Eden  we  once  dwelt  in  seems 
passing  fair.  Of  those  beyond  middle  life  there  are 
few  who  do  not  set  their  early  memories  in  sharp 
contrast  to  the  ways  they  now  travel,  looking  back  to 
a  happy  valley  and  long  bright  summers  that  are  left 
behind.  And  even  in  opening  manhood  and  woman- 
hood the  troubles  of  life  often  fall,  as  we  may  think, 
prematurely,  coming  between  the  mind  and  the 
remembered  joy  of  burdenless  existence. 

320 


xxix.-xxxi.]     AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE  KING.  321 


"  How  changed  are  they ! — how  changed  am  I ! 
The  early  spring  of  life  is  gone, 
Gone  is  each  youthful  vanity, — 

But  what  with  years,  oh  what  is  won  ? 

"I  know  not  — but  while  standing  now 

Where  opened  first  the  heart  of  youth, 
I  recollect  how  high  would  glow 

Its  thoughts  of  Glory,  Faith,  and  Truth — 

"  How  full  it  was  of  good  and  great, 

How  true  to  heaven,  how  warm  to  men. 
Alas !    I  scarce  forbear  to  hate 
The  colder  breast  I  bring  again." 

First  in  the  years  past  Job  sees  by  the  Hght  of  memory 
the  blessedness  he  had  when  the  Almighty  was  felt  to 
be  his  preserver  and  his  strength.  Though  now  God 
appears  to  have  become  an  enemy  he  will  not  deny 
that  once  he  had  a  very  different  experience.  Then 
nature  was  friendly,  no  harm  came  to  him  ;  he  was 
not  afraid  of  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in  darkness 
nor  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noon-day,  for  the 
Almighty  was  his  refuge  and  fortress.  To  refuse  this 
tribute  of  gratitude  is  far  from  the  mind  of  Job,  and 
the  expression  of  it  is  a  sign  that  now  at  length  he  is 
come  to  a  better  mind.  He  seems  on  the  way  fully  to 
recover  his  trust. 

The  elements  of  his  former  happiness  are  recounted 
in  detail.  God  watched  over  him  with  constant  care, 
the  lamp  of  Divine  love  shone  on  high  and  hghted  up 
the  darkness,  so  that  even  in  the  night  he  could  travel 
by  a  way  he  knew  not  and  feel  secure.  Days  of  strength 
and  pleasure  were  those  when  the  secret  of  God,  the 
sense  of  intimate  fellowship  with  God,  was  on  his 
tent,  when  his  children  were  about  him,  that  beautiful 
band  of  sons  and  daughters  who  were  his  pride.  Then 
his  steps  were  bathed  in  abundance,  butter  provided  by 

2  I 


322  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

innumerable  kine,  rivers  of  oil  which  seemed  to  flow 
from  the  rock,  where  terrace  above  terrace  the  olives 
grew  luxuriantly  and  yielded  their  fruit  without  fail. 

Chiefly  Job   remembers   with    gratitude  to   God  the 
esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by  all  about  him.     Nature 
was  friendly  and  not  less  friendly  were  men.     When 
he  went  into  the  city  and  took  his  seat  in  the  *^  broad 
place "  within   the    gate,    he  was    acknowledged    chief 
of  the   council    and   court   of  judgment.       The   young 
men  withdrew  and  stood  aside,  yea  the  elders,  already 
seated  in  the  place  of  assembly,  stood  up   to  receive 
him   as   their  superior  in  position   and  wdsdom.     Dis- 
cussion was  suspended  that  he  might  hear  and  decide. 
And  the  reasons  for  this  respect  are  given.    In  the  society 
thus  with  idylhc  touches  represented,  two  qualities  were 
highly  esteemed — regard  for  the  poor  and  wisdom  in 
counsel.     Then,  as  now,  the  problem  of  poverty  caused 
great  concern  to  the  elders  of  cities.     Though  the  popu 
lation  of  an  Arabian  town  could  not  be  great,  there  were 
many  widows  and  fatherless  children,  families  reduced 
to  beggary  by  disease  or  the  failure  of  their  poor  means 
of  livelihood,   blind  and   lame    persons    utterly  depen- 
dent on  charity,  besides  wandering  strangers  and  the 
vagrants  of  the  desert.     By  his  princely  munificence  to 
these  Job  had  earned  the  gratitude  of  the  w^hole  region. 
Need  was  met,  poverty  relieved,  justice  done  in  every 
case.     He  recounts  what  he  did,  not  in   boastfulness, 
but  as  one  who  rejoiced  in  the  ability  God  had  given 
him  to  aid  suffering  fellow-creatures.     Those  were  in- 
deed royal  times  for  the  generous-hearted  man.     Full 
of  public  spirit,  his  ear  and  hand  always  open,  giving 
freely  out  of  his  abundance,  he  commended  himself  to 
the  affectionate  regard  of  the  whole  valley.     The  ready 
way  of  almsgiving  was  that  alone  by  which  relief  was 


xxix.-xxxi.]    AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE  KING.  323 


provided  for  the  destitute,  and  Job  was  never  appealed 
to  in  vain. 

"  The  car  thai  heard  nie  blessed  me, 
The  eye  that  saw  bare  witness  to  nte, 
Because  I  delivered  the  poor  that  cried, 
And  the  fatherless  who  had  no  helper. 
The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  die  came  upon  mc, 
And  I  caused  the  luidow's  heart  to  sing  luith  joyP 

So  far  Job  rejoices  in  the  recollection  of  what  he  had 
been  able  to  do  for  the  distressed  and  needy  in  those 
days  when  the  lamp  of  God  shone  over  him.  He 
proceeds  to  speak  of  his  service  as  magistrate  or  judge. 

^^  I  put  on  rigliteoHsness  and  it  indued  itself  with  me, 
My  justice  was  as  a  robe  and  a  diadem  ; 
I  ivas  eyes  to  the  blind, 
And  feet  ivas  I  to  the  lanie.^'' 

With  righteousness  in  his  heart  so  that  all  he  said  and 
did  revealed  it  and  wearing  judgment  as  a  turban,  he 
sat  and  administered  justice  among  the  people.  Those 
who  had  lost  their  sight  and  were  unable  to  find  the 
men  that  had  wronged  them  came  to  him  and  he  was 
as  eyes  to  them,  following  up  every  clue  to  the  crime 
that  had  been  committed.  The  lame  who  could  not 
pursue  their  enemies  appealed  to  him  and  he  took  up 
their  cause.  The  poor,  suffering  under  oppression, 
found  him  a  protector,  a  father.  Yea,  "  the  cause  of 
him  that  I  knew  not  I  searched  out^  On  behalf  of  total 
strangers  as  well  as  of  neighbours  he  set  in  motion  the 
machinery  of  justice. 

"And  I  brake  t  lie  jaws  of  the  wicked 
And  plucked  the  spoil  from  his  teeth." 

None  were  so  formidable,  so  daring  and  lion-liKe,  but 
he  faced  them,  brought  them  to  judgment  and  compelled 


324  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


them  to  give  up  what   they  had  taken  by  fraud   and 
violence. 

In  those  days,  Job  confesses,  he  had  the  dream 
that  as  he  was  prosperous,  powerful,  helpful  to  others 
by  the  grace  of  God,  so  he  would  continue.  Why 
should  any  trouble  fall  on  one  who  used  power  con- 
scientiously for  his  neighbours  ?  Would  not  Eloah 
sustain  the  man  who  was  as  a  god  to  others  ? 

"  Then  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest, 
And  I  shall  multiply  my  days  as  the  Phcenix ; 
My  root  shall  spread  out  by  the  waters, 
And  the  dew  shall  be  all  night  on  my  branch; 
My  glory  shall  be  fresh  in  tne, 
And  my  bow  shall  be  reneived  in  my  hand.'''' 

A  fine  touch  of  the  dream-Hfe  which  ran  on  from  year 
to  year,  bright  and  blessed  as  if  it  would  flow  for  ever. 
Death  and  disaster  were  far  away.  He  would  renew 
his  life  like  the  Phoenix,  attain  to  the  age  of  the  ante- 
diluvian fathers,  and  have  his  glory  or  life  strong  in 
him  for  uncounted  years.  So  illusion  flattered  him,  the 
very  image  he  uses  pointing  to  the  futility  of  the  hope. 
The  closing  strophe  of  the  chapter  proceeds  with 
even  stronger  touch  and  more  abundant  colour  to  repre- 
sent his  dignity.  Men  listened  to  him  and  waited. 
Like  a  refreshing  rain  upon  thirsty  ground — and  how 
thirsty  the  desert  could  be  ! — his  counsel  fell  on  their 
ears.  He  smiled  upon  them  when  they  had  no  con- 
fidence, laughed  away  their  trouble,  the  light  of  his 
countenance  never  dimmed  by  their  apprehensions. 
Even  when  all  about  him  were  in  dismay  his  hearty 
hopeful  outlook  was  unclouded.  Trusting  God,  he 
knew  his  own  strength  and  gave  freely  of  it. 

"/  chose  out  their  zvay,  and  sat  as  a  chief, 
And  dwelt  as  a  king  in  the  crowd. 
As  one  that  comforteth  the  moiirners.''' 


xxix.-xxxi.]    AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE  KING.  325 

Looked  up  to  with  this  great  esteem,  acknowledged 
leader  in  virtue  of  his  overflowing  goodness  and  cheer- 
fulness, he  seemed  to  make  sunshine  for  the  whole 
community.  Such -was  the  past.  All  that  had  been, 
is  gone  apparently  for  ever. 

How  inexpressibly  strange  that  power  so  splendid, 
mental,  physical  and  moral  strength  used  in  the  service 
of  less  favoured  men  should  be  destroyed  by  Eloah  ! 
It  is  like  blotting  out  the  sun  from  heaven  and  leaving 
a  world  in  darkness.  And  most  strange  of  all  is  the 
way  in  which  low  men  assist  the  ruin  that  has  been 
wrought. 

The  thirtieth  chapter  begins  with  this.  Job  is  derided 
by  the  miserable  and  base  whose  fathers  he  would  have 
disdained  to  set  with  the  dogs  of  his  flock.  He  paints 
these  people,  gaunt  with  hunger  and  vice,  herding  in 
the  wilderness  where  alone  they  are  suffered  to  exist, 
plucking  mallows  or  salt-wort  among  the  bushes  and 
digging  up  the  roots  of  broom  for  food.  Men  hunted 
them  into  the  desert,  crying  after  them  as  thieves,  and 
they  dwelt  in  the  clefts  of  the  wadies,  in  caves  and 
amongst  rocks.  Like  wild  asses  they  brayed  in  the 
scrub  and  flung  themselves  down  among  the  nettles. 
Children  they  were  of  fools,  base-born,  men  who  had 
dishonoured  their  humanity  and  been  whipped  out  of 
the  land.  Such  are  they  whose  song  and  by-word  Job 
is  now  become.  These,  even  these  abhor  him  and 
spit  in  his  face.  He  makes  the  contrast  deep  and 
dreadful  as  to  his  own  experience  and  the  moral  con-: 
fusion  that  has  followed  Eloah's  strange  work.  For 
good  there  is  evil,  for  light  and  order  there  is  darkness. 
Does  God  desire  this,  ordain  it  ? 

One  is  inclined  to  ask  whether  the  abounding  com- 


326  -  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

passion  and  humaneness  of  the  Book  of  Job  fails  at 
this  point.  These  wretched  creatures  who  make  their 
lair  like  wild  beasts  among  the  nettles,  outcasts,  branded 
as  thieves,  a  wandering  base-born  race,  are  still  men. 
Their  fathers  may  have  fallen  into  the  vices  of  abject 
poverty.  But  why  should  Job  say  that  he  would  have 
disdained  to  set  them  with  the  dogs  of  his  flock  ?  In 
a  previous  speech  (chap,  xxiv.)  he  described  victims  of 
oppression  who  had  no  covering  in  the  cold  and  were 
drenched  with  the  rain  of  the  mountains,  clinging  to 
the  rock  for  shelter ;  and  of  them  he  spoke  gently, 
sympathetically.  But  here  he  seems  to  go  beyond 
compassion. 

Perhaps  one  might  say  the  tone  he  takes  now  is 
pardonable,  or  almost  pardonable,  because  these  wretched 
beings,  whom  he  may  have  treated  kindly  once,  have 
seized  the  occasion  of  his  misery  and  disease  to  insult 
him  to  his  face.  While  the  words  appear  hard,  the 
uselessness  of  the  pariah  may  be  the  main  point.  Yet 
a  little  of  the  pride  of  birth  cHngs  to  Job.  In  this 
respect  he  is  not  perfect ;  here  his  prosperous  life  needs 
a  check.  The  Almighty  must  speak  to  him  out  of  the 
tempest  that  he  may  feel  himself  and  find  '^  the  blessed- 
ness of  being  little." 

These  outcasts  throw  off  all  restraint  and  behavt 
with  disgraceful  rudeness  in  his  presence. 

"  Upon  my  right  hand  rise  the  low  brood, 
They  push  away  my  feet, 

And  cast  up  against  vie  their  luays  of  destruction  ; 
They  war  my  path, 
And  force  on  my  calamity — 
They  who  have  no  helper. 
They  come  in  as  through  a  ivide  breach, 
In  the  desolation  they  roll  themselves  upon  nie.^' 

The  various  images,  of  a  besieging  army,  of  those  who 


xxix.-xxxi.]     AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE    THE  KING.  327 


wantonly  break  up  paths  made  with  difficulty,  of  a 
breach  in  the  embankment  of  a  river,  are  to  show  that 
Job  is  now  accounted  one  of  the  meanest,  whom  any 
man  may  treat  with  indignity.  He  w'as  once  the  idol 
of  the  populace  ;  ''  now  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reve- 
rence." And  this  persecution  by  base  men  is  only  a 
sign  of  deeper  abasement.  As  a  horde  of  terrors  sent 
b}^  God  he  feels  the  reproaches  and  sorrows  of  his 
state. 

*^  Tenors  arc  turned  upon  me; 
They  chase  azvay  mine  honour  as  the  wind, 
And  my  welfare  passeth  as  a  cloud. 
And  now  my  soul  is  poured  out  in  me 
The  days  of  affliction  have  taken  hold  upon  nic." 

Thought  shifts  naturally  to  the  awful  disease  which 
has  caused  his  body  to  swell  and  to  become  black  as 
with  dust  and  ashes.  And  this  leads  him  to  his  final 
vehement  complaint  against  Eloah.  How  can  He  so 
abase  and  destroy  His  servant  ? 

"/  cry  luito   Thee  and  Thou  dost  not  hear  me ; 
I  stand  up,  and  Thou  lookest  at  me. 
Thou  art  turned  to  be  cruel  unto  me : 
With  the  might  of  Thine  hand  Thou  persecutest  me. 
Thou  liftest  me  up  to  the  wind,   Thon  causest  me  to  ride  on  it ; 
And  Thou  dissolvest  me  in  the  storm. 
For  I  know  that  Thou  ivilt  bring  me  to  death, 
And  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living. 
Yet  in  overthrow  doth  not  one  stretch  out  his  hand? 
In  destruction,  doth  he  not  because  of  this  utter  a  cry?''' 

Standing  up  in  his  wretchedness  he  is  fully  visible 
to  the  Divine  eye,  still  no  prayer  moves  Eloah  the 
terrible  from  His  purpose.  It  seems  to  be  finally  ap- 
pointed that  in  dishonour  Job  shall  die.  Yet,  destined 
to  this  fate,  his  hope  a  mockery,  shall  he  not  stretch 
out  his  hand,  cry  aloud  as  life  falls  to  the  grave  in 
ruin  ?     How  differently  is  God  treating  him  from  the 


328  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

way  in  which  he  treated  those  who  were  in  trouble  ! 
He  is  asking  in  vain  that  pity  which  he  himself  had 
often  shown.  Why  should  this  be  ?  How  can  it  be, 
and  Eloah  remain  the  Just  and  Living  One  ?  Pained 
without  and  within,  unable  to  refrain  from  crying  out 
when  people  gather  about  him,  a  brother  to  jackals 
whose  bowlings  are  heard  all  night,  a  companion  to 
the  grieving  ostrich,  his  bones  burned  by  raging  fever, 
his  harp  turned  to  wailing  and  his  lute  into  the  voice 
of  them  that  weep,  he  can  scarce  believe  himself  the 
same  man  that  once  walked  in  honour  and  gladness  in 
the  sight  of  earth  and  heaven. 

Thus  the  full  measure  of  complaint  is  again  poured 
out,  unchecked  by  thought  that  dignity  of  life  comes 
more  with  suffering  patiently  endured  than  with  pleasure. 
Job  does  not  know  that  out  of  trouble  like  his  a  man 
may  rise  more  human,  more  noble,  his  harp  furnished 
with  new  strings  of  deeper  feeling,  a  finer  light  of 
sympathy  shining  in  his  soul.  Consistently,  through- 
out, the  author  keeps  this  thought  in  the  background, 
showing  hopeless  sorrow,  affliction,  unrelieved  by  any 
sense  of  spiritual  gain,  pressing  with  heaviest  and  most 
weary  weight  upon  a  good  man's  life.  The  only  help 
Job  has  is  the  consciousness  of  virtue,  and  that  does 
not  check  his  complaint.  The  antinomies  of  life,  the 
past  as  compared  with  the  present.  Divine  favour  ex- 
changed for  cruel  persecution,  well-doing  followed  by 
most  grievous  pain  and  dishonour,  are  to  stand  at  the 
last  full  in  view.  Then  He  who  has  justice  in  His 
keeping  shall  appear.  God  Himself  shall  declare  and 
claim  His  supremacy  and  His  design. 

This  purpose  of  the  author  achieved,  the  last  passage 
of  Job's    address — chap.  xxxi. — rings   bold   and   clear 


xxix.-xxxi.]    AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE  KING.  329 

like  the  chant  of  a  victor,  not  serene  indeed  in  the 
presence  of  death,  for  this  is  not  the  Hebrew  temper 
and  cannot  be  ascribed  by  the  writer  to  his  hero,  yet 
with  firm  ground  beneath  his  feet,  a  clear  conscience 
of  truth  lighting  up  his  soul.  The  language  is  that  of 
an  innocent  man  before  his  accusers  and  his  judge,  yea 
of  a  prince  in  presence  of  the  King.  Out  of  the  darkness 
into  which  he  has  been  cast  by  false  arguments  and 
accusations,  out  of  the  trouble  into  which  his  own 
doubt  has  brought  him,  Job  seems  to  rise  with  a  new 
sense  of  moral  strength  and  even  of  restored  ph3^sical 
power.  No  more  in  reckless  challenge  of  heaven  and 
earth  to  do  their  worst,  but  with  a  fine  strain  of  earnest 
desire  to  be  clear  with  men  and  God,  he  takes  up  and 
denies  one  by  one  every  possible  charge  of  secret  and 
open  sin.  Is  the  language  he  uses  more  emphatic  than 
any  man  has  a  right  to  employ  ?  If  he  speaks  the 
truth,  why  should  his  words  be  thought  too  bold  ?  The 
Almighty  Judge  desires  no  man  falsely  to  accuse  him- 
self, will  have  no  man  leave  an  unfounded  suspicion 
resting  upon  his  character.  It  is  not  evangelical  meek- 
ness to  plead  guilty  to  sins  never  committed.  Job  feels 
it  part  of  his  integrity  to  maintain  his  integrity;  and 
here  he  vindicates  himself  not  in  general  terms  but 
in  detail,  with  a  decision  which  cannot  be  mistaken. 
Afterwards,  when  the  Almighty  has  spoken,  he  acknow- 
ledges the  ignorance  and  error  which  have  entered  into 
his  judgment,  making  the  confession  we  must  all  make 
even  after  years  of  faith. 

I.  From  the  taint  of  lustful  and  base  desire  he  first 
clears  himself.  He  has  been  pure  in  life,  innocent 
even  of  wandering  looks  which  might  have  drawn  him 
into  uncleanness.  He  has  made  a  covenant  with  his 
eyes  and  kept  it.     Sin  of  this  kind,  he  knew,  always 


330  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


brings  retribution,  and  no  indulgence  of  his  ever  caused 
sorrow  and  dishonour.  Regarding  the  particular  form 
of  evil  in  question  he  asks  : — 

^^  For  what  is  the  portion  front  God  above, 
And  the  heritage  of  the  Almighty  front  on  high  ? 
Is  it  not  calantity  to  the  unrighteous, 
And  disaster  to  them  that  work  iniquity?'^ 

Grouped  along  with  this  "  lust  of  the  flesh "  is  the 
^'  lust  of  the  eyes,"  covetous  desire.  The  itching  palm 
to  which  money  clings,  false  dealing  for  the  sake  of 
gain,  crafty  intrigues  for  the  acquisition  of  a  plot  of 
ground  or  some  animal — such  things  were  far  from  him. 
He  claims  to  be  weighed  in  a  strict  balance,  and  pledges 
himself  that  as  to  this  he  will  not  be  found  wanting. 
So  thoroughly  is  he  occupied  with  this  defence  that  he 
speaks  as  if  still  able  to  sow  a  crop  and  look  for  the 
harvest.  He  would  expect  to  have  the  produce  snatched 
from  his  hand  if  the  vanity  of  greed  and  getting  had 
led  him  astray.  Returning  then  to  the  more  offensive 
suspicion  that  he  had  laid  wait  treacherously  at  his 
neighbour's  door,  he  uses  the  most  vigorous  words  to 
show  at  once  his  detestation  of  such  offence  and  the 
result  he  believes  it  always  to  have.  It  is  an  enor- 
mity, a  nefarious  thing  to  be  punished  by  the  judges. 
More  than  that,  it  is  a  fire  that  consumes  to  Abaddon, 
wasting  a  man's  strength  and  substance  so  that  they 
are  swallowed  as  by  the  devouring  abyss.  As  to  this, 
Job's  reading  of  life  is  perfectly  sound.  Wherever 
society  exists  at  all,  custom  and  justice  are  made  to 
bear  as  heavily  as  possible  on  those  who  invade  the 
foundation  of  society  and  the  rights  of  other  men. 
Yet  the  keenness  with  which  immorality  of  the  par- 
ticular kind  is  watched  fans  the  flame  of  lust.  Nature 
appears  to  be  engaged  against  itself;  it  may  be  charged 


xxix.-xxxi.]     AS  A    PRINCE  BEFORE    THE  KING. 


with    the   offence,   it   certainly  joins    in    bringing   the 
punishment. 

II.  Another  possible  imputation  was  that  as  a  master 
or  employer  he  had  been  harsh  to  his  underlings. 
Common  enough  it  was  for  those  in  power  to  treat 
their  dependants  with  cruelty.  Servants  were  often 
slaves ;  their  rights  as  men  and  women  were  denied. 
Regarding  this,  the  words  put  into  the  mouth  of  Job 
are  finely  humane,  even  prophetic  : — 

"7/"/  despised  the  cause  of  my  nmn-seyvant  or  maid 
When  they  contended  ivith  me  .  .  . 
What  then  shall  I  do  when  God  riseth  jtp  ? 
And  when  He  visiteth  ivhat  shall  I  answer  Him  ? 
Did  not  He  that  made  me  in  the  womb  make  him  ? 
And  did  not  One  fashion  us  in  the  ivomb  ?  " 

The  rights  of  those  who  toiled  for  him  were  sacred, 
not  as  created  by  any  human  law  which  for  so  many 
hours'  service  might  compel  so  much  stipulated  hire, 
but  as  conferred  by  God.  Job's  servants  were  men 
and  women  with  an  indefeasible  claim  to  just  and  con- 
siderate treatment.  It  was  accidental,  so  to  speak,  that 
Job  was  rich  and  they  poor,  that  he  was  master  and 
they  under  him.  Their  bodies  were  fashioned  like  his, 
their  minds  had  the  same  capacity  of  thought,  of 
emotion,  of  pleasure  and  pain.  At  this  point  there 
is  no  hardness  of  tone  or  pride  of  birth  and  place. 
These  are  well-doing  people  to  whom  as  head  of  the 
cian  Job  stands  in  place  of  a  father. 

And  his  principle,  to  treat  them  as  their  inheritance 
of  the  same  life  from  the  same  Creator  gave  them  a  right 
to  be  dealt  with,  is  prophetic,  setting  forth  the  duties  of 
all  who  have  power  to  those  who  toil  for  them.  Men  are 
often  used  like  beasts  of  burden.  No  tyranny  on  earth 
is  so  hateful  as  many  employers,  driving  on  their  huge 


332  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


concerns  at  the  utmost  speed,  dare  to  exercise  through 
representatives  or  underlings.  The  simple  patriarchal 
life  which  brought  employer  and  employed  into  direct 
personal  relations  knew  little  of  the  antagonism  of 
class  interests  and  the  bitterness  of  feeling  which  often 
menaces  revolution.  None  of  this  will  cease  till  sim- 
plicity be  resumed  and  the  customs  which  keep  men  in 
touch  with  each  other,  even  though  they  fail  to  acknow- 
ledge themselves  members  of  the  one  family  of  God. 
When  the  servant  who  has  done  his  best  is,  after  years 
of  exhausting  labour,  dismissed  without  a  hearing  by 
some  subordinate  set  there  to  consider  what  are  called 
the  "  interests  "  of  the  employer — is  the  latter  free  from 
blame  ?  The  question  of  Job,  ''  What  then  shall  /  do 
when  God  riseth  up,  and  when  He  visiteth  what  shall 
I  answer  Him  ?  "  strikes  a  note  of  equity  and  brother- 
Hness  many  so-called  Christians  seem  never  to  have 
heard. 

III.  To  the  poor,  the  widow,  the  fatherless,  the 
perishing,  Job  next  refers.  Beyond  the  circle  of  his 
own  servants  there  were  needy  persons  whom  he  had 
been  charged  with  neglecting  and  even  oppressing. 
He  has  already  made  ample  defence  under  this  head. 
If  he  has  lifted  his  hand  against  the  fatherless,  having 
good  reason  to  presume  that  the  judges  would  be  on 
his  side — then  may  his  shoulder  fall  from  the  shoulder- 
blade  and  his  arm  from  the  collar-bone.  Calamity  from 
God  was  a  terror  to  Job,  and  recognising  the  glorious 
authority  which  enforces  the  law  of  brotherly  help  he 
could  not  have  Hved  in  proud  enjoyment  and  selfish 
contempt. 

IV.  Next  he  repudiates  the  idolatry  of  wealth  and 
the  sin  of  adoring  the  creature  instead  of  the  Creator. 
Rich  as  he  was,  he  can  affirm  that  he  never  thought 


XXIX.-XXXI. 


]     AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE    THE  KING. 


too  much  of  his  wealth,  nor  secretly  vaunted  himself 
in  what  he  had  gathered.  His  fields  brought  forth 
plentifully,  but  he  never  said  to  his  soul.  Thou  hast 
much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years,  take  thine  ease, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry.  He  was  but  a  steward, 
holding  all  at  the  will  of  God.  Not  as  if  abundance  of 
possessions  could  give  him  any  real  worth,  but  with 
constant  gratitude  to  his  Divine  Friend,  he  used  the 
world  as  not  abusing  it. 

And  for  his  religion  :  true  to  those  spiritual  ideas 
which  raised  him  far  above  superstition  and  idolatry, 
even  when  the  rising  sun  seemed  to  claim  homage  as 
a  fit  emblem  of  the  unseen  Creator,  or  when  the  full 
moon  shining  in  a  clear  sky  seemed  a  very  goddess  of 
purity  and  peace,  he  had  never,  as  others  were  wont 
to  do,  carried  his  hand  to  his  lips.  He  had  seen  the 
worship  of  Baal  and  Ishtar,  and  there  might  have  come 
to  him,  as  to  whole  nations,  the  impulses  of  wonder,  of 
delight,  of  religious  reverence.  But  he  can  fearlessly 
say  that  he  never  yielded  to  the  temptation  to  adore 
anything  in  heaven  or  earth.  It  would  have  been  to 
deny  Eloah  the  Supreme.  Dr.  Davidson  reminds  us 
here  of  a  legend  embodied  in  the  Koran  for  the  purpose 
of  impressing  the  lesson  that  worship  should  be  paid 
to  the  Lord  of  all  creatures,  "whose  shall  be  the  king- 
dom on  the  day  whereon  the  trumpet  shall  be  sounded." 
The  Almighty  says  :  ''  Thus  did  We  show  unto  Abraham 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  he  might  become 
of  those  who  firmly  believe.  And  when  the  night 
overshadowed  him  he  saw  a  star,  and  he  said.  This  is 
my  Lord ;  but  when  it  set  he  said,  I  like  not  those  that 
set.  And  when  he  saw  the  moon  rising  he  said,  This 
is  my  Lord ;  but  when  he  saw  it  set  he  said.  Verily 
if  my  Lord  direct  me  not,  I  shall  become  one  of  the 


334  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


people  who  go  astray.  And  when  he  saw  the  rising 
sun  he  said,  This  is  my  Lord  ;  this  is  the  greatest ;  but 
when  it  set  he  said,  O  my  people,  verily  I  am  clear  of 
that  which  ye  associate  with  God ;  I  direct  my  face 
unto  Him  who  hath  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth." 
Thus  from  very  early  times  to  that  of  Mohammed 
monotheism  was  in  conflict  with  the  form  of  idolatry 
that  naturally  allured  the  inhabitants  of  Arabia.  Job 
confesses  the  attraction,  denies  the  sin.  He  speaks  as 
if  the  laws  of  his  people  were  strongly  against  sun- 
worship,  whatever  might  be  done  elsewhere. 

V.  He  proceeds  to  declare  that  he  has  never  rejoiced 
over  a  fallen  enemy  nor  sought  the  life  of  any  one 
with  a  curse.  He  distinguishes  himself  very  sharply 
from  those  who  in  the  common  Oriental  way  dealt 
curses  without  great  provocation,  and  those  even  who 
kept  them  for  deadly  enemies.  So  far  was  this  ran- 
corous spirit  from  him  that  friends  and  enemies  alike 
were  welcome  to  his  hospitality  and  help.  Verse  31 
means  that  his  servants  could  boast  of  being  unable  to 
find  a  single  stranger  who  had  not  sat  at  his  table. 
Their  business  was  to  furnish  it  every  day  with  guests. 
Nor  will  Job  allow  that  after  the  manner  of  men  he 
skilfully  covered  transgressions.  '*  If,  guilty  of  some 
base  thing,  I  concealed  it,  as  men  often  do,  because  I 
was  afraid  of  losing  caste,  afraid  lest  the  great  families 
would  despise  me.  .  .  ."  Such  a  thought  or  fear  never 
presented  itself  to  him.  He  could  not  thus  have  lived 
a  double  life.  All  had  been  above-board,  in  the  clear 
light  of  day,  ruled  by  one  law. 

In  connection  with  this  it  is  that  he  comes  with 
princely  appeal  to  the  King. 

"  Oil  that  I  Jiad  one  to  hear  me  ! — • 
Behold  my  signature — let  the  Almighty  answer  me. 


xxi'x.-xxxi.]    AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE   THE  KtNG.  335 


And  oil  thai  I  had  my  Opponent'' s  charge  ! 

Surely  I  ivould  carry  it  on  my  shoulder, 

I  ivoiild  bind  it  unto  me  as  a  crown. 

I  ivould  declare  nnto  Hint  the  number  of  my  steps, 

As  a  prince  ivould  I  go  near  unto  HimP 

The  words  are  to  be  defended  only  on  the  ground 
that  the  Eloah  to  whom  a  challenge  is  here  addressed 
is  God  misunderstood,  God  charged  falsely  with  making 
unfounded  accusations  against  His  servant  and  punish- 
ing him  as  a  criminal.  The  Almighty  has  not  been 
doing  so.  The  vicious  reasoning  of  the  friends,  the 
mistaken  creed  of  the  age  make  it  appear  as  if  He  had. 
Men  say  to  Job,  You  suffer  because  God  has  found 
evil  in  you.  He  is  requiting  you  according  to  your 
iniquity.  They  maintain  that  for  no  other  reason  could 
calamities  have  come  upon  him.  So  God  is  made  to 
appear  as  the  man's  adversary  ;  and  Job  is  forced  to 
the  demonstration  that  he  has  been  unjustly  condemned. 
^'  Behold  my  signature,"  he  says  :  I  state  my  innocence  ; 
I  set  to  my  mark ;  I  stand  by  my  claim :  I  can  do 
nothing  else.  Let  the  Almighty  prove  me  at  fault. 
God,  you  say,  has  a  book  in  which  His  charges  against 
me  are  written  out.  I  wish  I  had  that  book  !  I  would 
fasten  it  upon  my  shoulder  as  a  badge  of  honour  ;  yea, 
I  would  wear  it  as  a  crown.  I  would  show  Eloah  all 
I  have  done,  every  step  I  have  taken  through  hfe  by 
day  and  night.  I  would  evade  nothing.  In  the  assur- 
ance of  integrity  I  would  go  to  the  King ;  as  a  prince 
I  would  stand  in  His  presence.  There  face  to  face 
with  Him  whom  I  know  to  be  just  and  righteous  I 
would  justify  myself  as  His  servant,  faithful  in  His 
house. 

Is   it  audacity,   impiety  ?     The  writer  of  the   book 
does  not  mean  it  to  be  so  understood.     There  is  not 


336  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

the  slightest  hint  that  he  gives  up  his  hero.  Every 
claim  made  is  true.  Yet  there  is  ignorance  of  God, 
and  that  ignorance  puts  Job  in  fault  so  far.  He  does 
not  know  God's  action  though  he  knows  his  own. 
He  ought  to  reason  from  the  misunderstanding  of 
himself  and  see  that  he  may  fail  to  understand  Eloah. 
When  he  begins  to  see  this  he  will  believe  that  his 
sufferings  have  complete  justification  in  the  purpose  of 
the  Most  High. 

The  ignorance  of  Job  represents  the  ignorance  of  the 
old  world.  Notwithstanding  the  tenor  of  his  prologue 
the  writer  is  without  a  theory  of  human  afQiction 
applicable  to  every  case,  or  even  to  the  experience  of 
Job.  He  can  only  say  and  repeat,  God  is  supremely 
wise  and  righteous,  and  for  the  glory  of  His  wisdom 
and  righteousness  He  ordains  all  that  befalls  men. 
The  problem  is. not  solved  till  we  see  Christ,  the  Captain 
of  our  salvation,  made  perfect  by  suffering,  and  know 
that  our  earthly  affliction  ''  which  is  for  the  moment 
worketh  for  us  more  and  more  exceedingly  an  eternal 
weight  of  glory." 

The  last  verses  of  the  chapter  may  seem  out  of  place. 
Job  speaks  as  a  landowner  who  has  not  encroached  on 
the  fields  of  others  but  honestly  acquired  his  estate, 
and  as  a  farmer  who  has  tilled  it  well.  This  seems  a 
trifling  matter  compared  with  others  that  have  been 
considered.  Yet,  as  a  kind  of  afterthought,  completing 
the  review  of  his  life,  the  detail  is  natural. 

"  If  my  loud  ciy  out  against  me, 
And  the  fiirrovos  thereof  ivcep  together. 
If  I  have  eaten  the  fruits  thereof  without  money, 
Or  have  caused  the  owners  to  lose  their  life  : 
Let  thistles  grow  instead  of  wheat 
And  cockle  instead  of  barley. 

The  words  of  Job  are  ejtded."' 


xxix.-xxxi.]    AS  A   PRINCE  BEFORE    THE  KING.  337 

A  farmer  of  the  right  kind  would  have  great  shame 
if  poor  crops  or  wet  furrows  cried  against  him,  or  if  he 
could  otherwise  be  accused  of  treating  the  land  ill. 
The  touch  is  realistic  and  forcible. 

Still  it  is  plain  at  the  close  that  the  character  of  Job 
is  idealised.  Much  may  be  received  as  matter  of  verit- 
able history ;  but  on  the  whole  the  life  is  too  fine,  pure, 
saintly  for  even  an  extraordinary  man.  The  picture  is 
clearly  typical.  And  it  is  so  for  the  best  reason.  An 
actual  life  would  not  have  set  the  problem  fully  in  view. 
The  writer's  aim  is  to  rouse  thought  by  throwing  the 
contradictions  of  human  experience  so  vividly  upon 
a  prepared  canvas  that  all  may  see.  Why  do  the 
righteous  suffer  ?  What  does  the  Almighty  mean  ? 
The  urgent  questions  of  the  race  are  made  as  insistent 
as  art  and  passion,  ideal  truth  and  sincerity,  can  make 
them.  Job  lying  in  the  grime  of  misery  yet  claiming 
his  innocence  as  a  prince  before  the  Eternal  King, 
demands  on  behalf  of  humanity  the  vindication  of 
providence,  the  meaning  of  the  world  scheme. 


22 


ELIHU    INTERVENES. 


XXV. 

POST-EXILIC   WISDOM. 
Chaps,  xxxii.-xxxiv. 

A  PERSONAGE  hitherto  unnamed  in  the  course  of 
the  drama  now  assumes  the  place  of  critic  and  judge 
between  Job  and  his  friends.  EHhu,  son  of  Barachel 
the  Buzite,  of  the  family  of  Ram,  appears  suddenly 
and  as  suddenly  disappears.  The  implication  is  that 
he  has  been  present  during  the  whole  of  the  colloquies, 
and  that,  having  patiently  waited  his  time,  he  expresses 
the  judgment  he  has  slowly  formed  on  arguments  to 
which  he  has  given  close  attention. 

.It  is  significant  that  both  Elihu  and  his  representa- 
tions are  ignored  in  the  winding  up  of  the  action.  The 
address  of  the  Almighty  from  the  storm  does  not  take 
him  into  account  and  seems  to  follow  directly  on  the 
close  of  Job's  defence.  It  is  a  very  obvious  criticism, 
therefore,  that  the  long  discourse  of  EHhu  may  be  an 
interpolation  or  an  afterthought — a  fresh  attempt  by 
the  author  or  by  some  later  writer  to  correct  errors 
into  which  Job  and  his  friends  are  supposed  to  have 
fallen  and  to  throw  new  light  on  the  matter  of  dis- 
cussion. The  textual  indications  are  all  in  favour  of 
this  view.  The  style  of  the  language  appears  to  belong 
to  a  later  time  than  the  other  parts  of  the  book.  But 
to  reject  the  address  as   unworthy  of  a  place  in  the 

341 


342  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

poem  would  be  too  summary.  Elihu  indeed  assumes 
the  air  of  the  superior  person  from  the  first,  so  that 
one  is  not  engaged  in  his  favour.  Yet  there  is  an 
honest,  reverent  and  thoughtful  contribution  to  the 
subject.  In  some  points  this  speaker  comes  nearer  the 
truth  than  Job  or  any  of  his  friends,  although  the  address 
as  a  whole  is  beneath  the  rest  of  the  book  in  respect 
of  matter  and  argument,  and  still  more  in  poetical 
feeling  and  expression. 

It  is  suggested  by  M.  Renan  that  the  original  author, 
taking  up  his  work  again  after  a  long  interval,  at  a 
period  in  his  life  when  he  had  lost  his  verve  and  his 
style,  may  have  added  this  fragment  with  the  idea  of 
completing  the  poem.  There  are  strong  reasons  against 
such  an  explanation.  For  one  thing  there  seems  to  be 
a  misconception  where,  at  the  outset,  Elihu  is  made  to 
assume  that  Job  and  his  friends  are  very  old.  The 
earlier  part  of  the  poem  by  no  means  affirms  this.  Job, 
though  we  call  him  a  patriarch,  was  not  necessarily  far 
advanced  in  life,  and  Zophar  appears  considerably 
younger.  Again  the  contention  in  the  eighth  verse^ — 
''There  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and  the  breath  of  the 
Almighty  giveth  them  understanding" — seems  to  be 
the  justification  a  later  writer  would  think  it  needful 
to  introduce.  He  acknowledges  the  Divine  gift  of  the 
original  poet  and  adding  his  criticism  claims  for  Elihu^ 
that  is,  for  himself,  the  lucidity  God  bestows  on  every 
calm  and  reverent  student  of  His  ways.  This  is  con- 
siderably different  from  anything  we  find  in  the  addresses 
of  the  other  speakers.  It  seems  to  show  that  the  ques- 
tion of  inspiration  had  arisen  and  passed  through  some 
discussion.  But  the  rest  of  the  book  is  written  without 
any  consciousness,  or  at  all  events  any  admission  of 
such  a  question. 


XXXll.-XXXlV. 


POST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  343 


Elihu  appears  to  represent  the  new  ''  wisdom  "  which 
came  to  Hebrew  thinkers  in  the  period  of  the  exile  ; 
and  there  are  certain  opinions  embodied  in  his  ad- 
dress which  must  have  been  formed  during  an  exile 
that  brought  many  Jews  to  honour.  The  reading  of 
affliction  given  is  one  following  the  discovery  that  the 
general  sinfulness  of  a  nation  may  entail  chastisement 
on  men  who  have  not  personally  been  guilty  of  great 
sin,  yet  are  sharers  in  the  common  neglect  of  religion 
and  pride  of  heart,  and  further  that  this  chastisement 
may  be  the  means  of  great  profit  to  those  who  suffer. 
It  would  be  harsh  to  say  the  tone  is  that  of  a  mind 
which  has  caught  the  trick  of  'S-oluntary  humility,"  of 
pietistic  self-abasement.  Yet  there  are  traces  of  such 
a  tendency,  the  beginning  of  a  religious  strain  opposed 
to  legal  self-righteousness,  running,  however,  very 
readily  to  excess  and  formalism..  Elihu,  accordingly, 
appears  to  stand  on  the  verge  of  a  descent  from  the 
robust  moral  vigour  of  the  original  author  towards  that 
low  ground  in  Vv'hich  false  views  of  man's  nature  hinder 
the  free  activity  of  faith. 

The  note  struck  by  the  Book  of  Job  had  stirred 
eager  thought  in  the  time  of  the  exile.  Just  as  in  the 
Middle  Ages  of  European  history  the  Divine  Comedy 
of  Dante  was  mxade  a  special  study,  and  chairs  were 
founded  in  universities  for  its  exposition,  so  less 
formally  the  drama  of  Job  was  made  the  subject  of 
inquiry  and  speculation.  We  suppose  then  that  among 
the  many  who  wrote  on  the  poem,  one  acting  for  a 
circle  of  thinkers  incorporated  their  views  in  the  text. 
He  could  not  do  so  otherwise  than  by  bringing  a  new 
speaker  on  the  stage.  To  add  anything  to  what 
Eliphaz  or  Bildad  or  Job  had  said  would  have  pre- 
vented the  free  expression  of  new  opinion.     Nor  could 


344  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


he  without  disrespect  have  inserted  the  criticism  after 
the  words  of  Jehovah.  Selecting  as  the  only  proper 
point  of  interpolation  the  close  of  the  debate  between 
Job  and  the  friends,  the  scribe  introduced  the  Elihu 
portion  as  a  review  of  the  whole  scope  of  the  book, 
and  may  indeed  have  subtly  intended  to  assail  as 
entirely  heterodox  the  presupposition  of  Job's  integrity 
and  the  Almighty's  approval  of  His  servant.  That 
being  his  purpose,  he  had  to  veil  it  in  order  to 
keep  the  discourse  of  Elihu  in  line  with  the  place 
assigned  to  him  in  the  dramatic  movement.  The  con- 
tents of  the  prologue  and  epilogue  and  the  utterance 
of  the  Almighty  from  the  storm  affect,  throughout,  the 
added  discourse.  But  to  secure  the  unity  of  the  poem 
the  writer  makes  Elihu  speak  like  one  occupying  the 
same  ground  as  Eliphaz  and  the  others,  that  of  a 
thinker  ignorant  of  the  original  motive  of  the  drama ; 
and  this  is  accomplished  with  no  small  skill.  The 
assumption  is  that  reverent  thought  may  throw  new 
light,  far  more  light  than  the  original  author  possessed, 
on  the  case  as  it  stood  during  the  colloquies.  Elihu 
avoids  assailing  the  conception  of  the  prologue  that 
Job  is  a  perfect  and  upright  man  approved  by  God. 
He  takes  the  state  of  the  sufferer  as  he  finds  it,  and 
inquires  how  and  why  it  is,  what  is  the  remedy. 
There  are  pedantries  and  obscurities  in  the  discourse, 
yet  the  author  must  not  be  denied  the  merit  of  a  careful 
and  successful  attempt  to  adapt  his  character  to  the 
place  he  occupies  in  the  drama.  Beyond  this,  and  the 
admission  that  something  additional  is  said  on  the  sub- 
ject of  Divine  discipline,  it  is  needless  to  go  in  justifying 
Elihu's  appearance.  One  can  only  remark  with  wonder 
in  passing  that  EHhu  should  ever  have  been  declared  the 
Angel  Jehovah,  or  a  personification  of  the  Son  of  God. 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  345 

The  narrative  verses  which  introduce  the  new  speaker 
state  that  his  w^rath  was  kindled  against  Job  because 
he  justified  himself  rather  than  God,  and  against  the 
three  friends  because  they  had  condemned  Job  and  yet 
found  no  answer  to  his  arguments.  The  mood  is  that 
of  a  critic  rather  hot,  somewhat  too  confident  that  he 
knows,  beginning  a  task  that  requires  much  penetration 
and  wisdom.  But  the  opening  sentences  of  the  speech 
of  Elihu  betray  the  need  the  writer  felt  to  justify  himself 
in  making  his  bold  venture. 

"/  am  young  and  ye  are  very  old ; 
Wherefore  I  held  back  and  durst  not  show  vny  knowledge. 
I  thought^  Days  should  speak, 
And  the  midtiiiide  of  years  teach  ivisdom. 
Still,  there  is  a  spirit  in  man. 

And  the  breath  of  the  Almighty  givcth  them  imderstanding. 
Not  the  great  iti  years  are  wise. 
Nor  do  the  aged  imderstand  what  is  rigid. 
Therefore  I  say :  Hearken  to  me ; 
I  also  luill  show  my  opinion.^' 

These  verses  are  a  defence  of  the  new  writer's  bold- 
ness in  adding  to  a  poem  that  has  come  down  from  a 
previous  age.  He  is  confident  in  his  judgment,  yet 
realises  the  necessity  of  commending  it  to  the  hearers. 
He  claims  that  inspiration  which  belongs  to  every 
reverent  conscientious  inquirer.  On  this  footing  he 
affirms  a  right  to  express  his  opinion,  and  the  right 
cannot  be  denied. 

Elihu  has  been  disappointed  with  the  speeches  of  Job's 
friends.  He  has  listened  for  their  reasons,  observed 
how  they  cast  about  for  arguments  and  theories ;  but 
no  one  said  anything  convincing.  It  is  an  offence 
to  this  speaker  that  men  who  had  so  good  a  case 
against  their  friend  made  so  little  of  it.  The  intel- 
ligence of  Elihu  is  therefore  from  the  first  committed 


346  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


to  the  hypothesis  that  Job  is  in  the  wrong.  Obviously 
the  writer  places  his  spokesman  in  a  position  which  the 
epilogue  condemns  ;  and  if  we  assume  this  to  have  been 
deliberately  done  a  subtle  verdict  against  the  scope  of  the 
poem  must  have  been  intended.  May  it  not  be  surmised 
that  this  implied  comment  or  criticism  gave  the  inter- 
polated discourse  value  in  the  eyes  of  many  ?  Originally 
the  poem  appeared  somewhat  dangerous,  out  of  the  line 
of  orthodoxy.  It  may  have  become  more  acceptable  to 
Hebrew  thought  when  this  caveat  against  bold  assump- 
tions of  human  perfectibility  and  the  right  of  man  in 
presence  of  his  Maker  had  been  incorporated  with  the 
text. 

Elihu  tells  the  friends  that  they  are  not  to  say,  We 
have  found  wisdom  in  Job,  unexpected  wisdom  which 
the  Almighty  alone  is  able  to  vanquish.  They  are  not 
to  excuse  themselves  nor  exaggerate  the  difficulties  of 
the  situation  by  entertaining  such  an  opinion.  Elihu 
is  confident  that  he  can  overcome  Job  in  reasoning. 
As  if  speaking  to  himself  he  describes  the  perplexity 
of  the  friends  and  states  his  intention. 

"  They  were  amazed,  they  answered  no  more ; 
They  had  not  a  word  to  say. 
And  shall  I  wait  because  they  speak  not, 
Because  they  stand  still  and  answer  no  more? 
I  also  will  answer  my  part, 
I  also  ivill  show  my  opinion.^'' 

His  convictions  become  stronger  and  more  urgent. 
He  must  open  his  lips  and  answer.  And  he  will  use 
no  Qattery.  Neither  the  age  nor  the  greatness  of  the 
men  he  is  addressing  shall  keep  him  from  speaking  his 
mind.  If  he  were  insincere  he  would  bring  on  himself 
the  judgment  of  God.  ''My  Maker  would  soon  take 
me  away."     Here  again  the  second  writer's  self-defence 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  FOST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  347 


colours  the  words  put  into  Elihu's  mouth.  Reverence 
for  the  genius  of  the  poet  whose  work  he  is  supple- 
menting does  not  prevent  a  greater  reverence  for  his 
own  views. 

The  general  exordium  closes  with  the  thirty-second 
chapter,  and  in  the  thirty-third  Elihu,  addressing  Job 
by  name,  enters  on  a  new  vindication  of  his  right  to 
intervene.  His  claim  is  still  that  of  straightforwardness, 
sincerity.  He  is  to  express  what  he  knows  without 
any  other  motive  than  to  throw  light  on  the  matter  in 
hand.  He  feels  himself,  moreover,  to  be  guided  by  the 
Divine  Spirit.  The  breath  of  the  Almighty  has  given 
him  life ;  and  on  this  ground  he  considers  himself 
entitled  to  enter  the  discussion  and  ask  of  Job  what 
answer  he  can  give.  This  is  done  with  dramatic  feel- 
ing. The  life  he  enjoys  is  not  only  physical  vigour 
as  contrasted  with  Job's  diseased  and  infirm  state, 
but  also  intellectual  strength,  the  power  of  God-given 
reason.  Yet,  as  if  he  might  seem  to  claim  too  much, 
he  hastens  to  explain  that  he  is  quite  on  Job's  level 
nevertheless. 

^'Behold,  I  am  before  God  even  as  tJion  art; 
I  also  am  formed  out  of  the  clay. 
Lo,  my  terror  shall  not  make  thee  afraid, 
Neither  shall  jny  pressure  be  heavy  upon  thee. 

EHhu  is  no  great  personage,  no  heaven-sent  prophet 
whose  oracles  must  be  received  without  question.  He 
is  not  terrible  like  God,  but  a  man  formed  out  of  the 
clay.  The  dramatising  appears  overdone  at  this  point, 
and  can  only  be  explained  by  the  desire  of  the  writer 
to  keep  on  good  terms  with  those  who  already  reve- 
renced the  original  poet  and  regarded  his  work  as  sacred. 
What  is  now  to  be  said  to  Job  is  spoken  with  know- 


34S  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

ledge  and  conviction,  yet  without  pretension  to  more 
than  the  wisdom  of  the  holy.  There  is,  however,  a 
covert  attack  on  the  original  author  as  having  made 
too  much  of  the  terror  of  the  Almighty,  the  constant 
pain  and  anxiety  that  bore  down  Job's  spirit.  No 
excuse  of  the  kind  is  to  be  allowed  for  the  failure  of 
Job  to  justify  himself.  He  did  not  because  he  could  not. 
The  fact  was,  according  to  this  critic,  that  Job  had  no 
right  of  self-defence  as  perfect  and  upright,  without 
fault  before  the  Most  High.  No  man  possessed  or 
could  acquire  such  integrity.  And  all  the  attempts  of 
the  earlier  dramatist  to  put  arguments  and  defences 
into  his  hero's  mouth  had  of  necessity  failed.  The 
new  writer  comprehends  very  well  the  purpose  of  his 
predecessor  and  intends  to  subvert  it. 
The  formal  indictment  opens  thus  : — 

"  Surely  thou,  hast  spoken  in  my  hearing 
And  I  have  heard  thy  words: — 
/  am  clean  without  transgression ; 
I  am  innocent,  neither  is  there  iniquity  in  me. 
Behold,  He  findeth  occasions  against  me, 
He  counteth  me  for  His  enemy; 
He  putteth  tne  in  the  stocks, 
He  marke/h  all  my  pat/is." 

The  claim  of  righteousness,  the  explanation  of  his 
troubles  given  by  Job  that  God  made  occasions  against 
him  and  without  cause  treated  him  as  an  enemy,  are 
the  errors  on  which  Elihu  fastens.  They  are  the  errors 
of  the  original  writer.  No  one  endeavouring  to  repre- 
sent the  feelings  and  language  of  a  servant  of  God 
should  have  placed  him  in  the  position  of  making  so  false 
a  claim,  so  base  a  charge  against  Eloah.  Such  criticism 
is  not  to  be  set  aside  as  either  incompetent  or  over 
bold.     But  the  critic  has  to  justify  his  opinion,  and,  like 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  349 


many  others,  when  he  comes  to  give  reasons  his  weak- 
ness discloses  itself.  He  is  certainly  hampered  by  the 
necessity  of  keeping  within  dramatic  lines.  Elihu  must 
appear  and  speak  as  one  who  stood  beside  Job  with 
the  same  veil  between  him  and  the  Divine  throne.  And 
perhaps  for  this  reason  the  effort  of  the  dramatist  comes 
short  of  the  occasion. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  attention  is  fixed  on  isolated 
expressions  which  fell  from  Job's  lips,  that  there  is  no 
endeavour  to  set  forth  fully  the  attitude  of  the  sufferer 
towards  the  Almighty.  Eliphaz,  Bildad,  and  Zophar 
had  made  Job  an  offender  for  a  word  and  Elihu  follows 
them.  We  anticipate  that  his  criticism,  however  telling 
it  may  be,  will  miss  the  true  point,  the  heart  of  the 
question.  He  will  possibly  establish  some  things 
against  Job,  but  they  will  not  prove  him  to  have 
failed  as  a  brave  seeker  after  truth  and  God. 

Opposing  the  claim  and  complaint  he  has  quoted, 
Elihu  advances  in  the  first  instance  a  proposition 
which  has  the  air  of  a  truism — ''  God  is  greater  than 
many  He  does  not  try  to  prove  that  even  though  a 
man  has  appeared  to  himself  righteous  he  may  really 
be  sinful  in  the  sight  of  the  Almighty,  or  that  God  has 
the  right  to  afiQict  an  innocent  person  in  order  to  bring 
about  some  great  and  holy  design.  The  contention  is 
that  a  man  should  suffer  and  be  silent.  God  is  not  to 
be  questioned  ;  His  providence  is  not  to  be  challenged. 
A  man,  however  he  may  have  lived,  is  not  to  doubt 
that  there  is  good  reason  for  his  misery  if  he  is  miser- 
able. He  is  to  let  stroke  after  stroke  fall  and  utter  no 
complaint.  And  yet  Job  had  erred  in  saying,  "  God 
giveth  not  account  of  any  of  His  matters.''^  It  is  not 
true,  says  Elihu,  that  the  Divine  King  holds  Himself 
entirely  aloof  from   the  inquiries  and   prayers  of  His 


350  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


subjects.  He  discloses  in  more  than  one  way  both  His 
purposes  and  His  grace. 

"  IVIiy  dost  tJioit  contend  against  God 
That  He  giveth  not  account  of  any  of  His  matters  ? 
■For  God  speaketh  once,  yea  twice, 
Yet  man  perceiveth  it  not.'' 

The  first  way  in  which,  according  to  Ehhu,  God  speaks 
to  men  is  by  a  dream,  a  vision  of  the  night ;  and  the 
second  way  is  by  the  chastisement  of  pain. 

Now  as  to  the  first  of  these,  the  dream  or  vision, 
Elihu  had,  of  course,  the  testimony  of  almost  universal 
belief,  and  also  of  some  cases  that  passed  ordinary 
experience.  Scriptural  examples,  such  as  the  dreams 
of  Jacob,  of  Joseph,  of  Pharaoh,  and  the  prophetic 
visions  already  recognised  by  all  pious  Hebrews,  were 
no  doubt  in  the  writer's  mind.  Yet  if  it  is  implied  that 
Job  might  have  learned  the  will  of  God  from  dreams, 
or  that  this  was  a  method  of  Divine  communication  for 
which  any  man  might  look,  the  rule  laid  down  was  at 
least  perilous.  Visions  are  not  always  from  God.  A 
dream  may  come  ''by  the  multitude  of  business."  It 
is  true,  as  Elihu  says,  that  one  who  is  bent  on  some 
proud  and  dangerous  course  may  be  more  himself  in  a 
dream  than  in  his  waking  hours.  He  may  see  a  picture 
of  the  future  which  scares  him,  and  so  he  may  be 
deterred  from  his  purpose.  Yet  the  waking  thoughts 
of  a  man,  if  he  is  sincere  and  conscientious,  are  far 
more  fitted  to  guide  him,  as  a  rule,  than  his  dreams. 

Passing  to  the  second  method  of  Divine  communica- 
tion, Elihu  appears  to  be  on  safer  ground.  He  describes 
the  case  of  an  afflicted  man  brought  to  extremity  by 
disease,  whose  soul  draweth  near  to  the  grave  and  his 
fife  to  the  destroyers  or  death-angels.  Such  suffering 
^nd  weakness  do  not  of  themselves  insure  knowledge 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC    WISDOM.  351 

of  God's  will,  but  they  prepare  the  sufferer  to  be  in- 
structed. And  for  his  deliverance  an  interpreter  is 
required. 

^^  If  ilierc  be  with  hun  an  angel, 
An  interpreter,  one  among  a  thousand, 
To  show  unto  man  what  is  his  duty ; 
Then  He  is  gracious  unto  him,  and  saith, 
Deliver  him  from  going  down  to  the  pit, 
I  have  found  a  ransom." 

Elihu  cannot  say  that  such  an  angel  or  interpreter 
will  certainly  appear.  He  may  :  and  if  he  does  and 
points  the  way  of  uprightness,  and  that  way  is  followed, 
then  the  result  is  redemption,  deliverance,  renewed 
prosperity.  But  who  is  this  angel?  "One  of  the 
ministering  spirits  sent  forth  to  do  service  on  behalf  of 
the  heirs  of  salvation  ?  "  The  explanation  is  somewhat 
far-fetched.  The  ministering  angels  were  not  restricted 
in  number.  Each  Hebrew  was  supposed  to  have  two 
such  guardians.  Then  Malachi  says,  ''The  priest's  lips 
should  keep  knowledge,  and  they  should  seek  the  law 
at  his  mouth  ;  for  he  is  the  angel  (messenger)  of  Jehovah 
Sebaoth."  Here  the  priest  appears  as  an  angel-inter- 
preter, and  the  passage  seems  to  throw  light  on  Elihu's 
meaning.  As  no  explicit  mention  is  made  of  a  priest 
or  any  priestly  function  in  our  text,  it  may  at  least  be 
hinted  that  interpreters  of  the  law,  scribes  or  incipient 
rabbis  are  intended,  of  whom  Elihu  claims  to  be  one. 
In  this  case  the  ransom  would  remain  without  explana- 
tion. But  if  we  take  that  as  a  sacrificial  offering,  the 
name  ''angel-interpreter"  covers  a  reference  to  the 
properly  accredited  priest.  The  passage  is  so  obscure 
that  little  can  be  based  upon  it ;  yet  assuming  the  Elihu 
discourses  to  be  of  late  origin  and  intended  to  bring 
the  poem  into  line  with  orthodox  Hebrew  thought  the 


352  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

introduction  of  either  priest  or  scribe  would  be  in 
harmony  with  such  a  purpose.  Mediation  at  all  events 
is  declared  to  be  necessary  as  between  the  sufferer  and 
God ;  and  it  would  be  strange  indeed  if  Elihu,  pro- 
fessing to  explain  matters,  really  made  Divine  grace 
to  be  consequent  on  the  intervention  of  an  angel 
whose  presence  and  instruction  could  in  no  way  be 
verified.  Elihu  is  realistic  and  would  not  rest  his 
case  at  any  point  on  what  might  be  declared  purely 
imaginary. 

The  promise  he  virtually  makes  to  Job  is  like  those 
of  Eliphaz  and  the  others, — renewed  health,  restored 
youth,  the  sense  of  Divine  favour.  Enjoying  these,  the 
forgiven  penitent  sings  before  men,  acknowledging 
his  fault  and  praising  God  for  his  redemption.  The 
assurance  of  deliverance  was  probably  made  in  view  of 
the  epilogue,  with  Job's  confession  and  the  prosperity 
restored  to  him.  But  the  WTiter  misunderstands  the 
confession,  and  promises  too  glibly.  It  is  good  to 
receive  after  great  affliction  the  guidance  of  a  wise 
interpreter ;  and  to  seek  God  again  in  humility  is 
certainly  a  man's  duty.  But  would  submission  and 
the  forgiveness  of  God  bring  results  in  the  physical 
sphere,  health,  renewed  youth  and  feHcity  ?  No  in- 
variable nexus  of  cause  and  effect  can  be  established 
here  from  experience  of  the  dealings  of  God  with  men. 
Elihu's  account  of  the  way  in  which  the  Almighty 
communicates  with  His  creatures  must  be  declared  a 
failure.  It  is  in  some  respects  careful  and  ingenious, 
yet  it  has  no  sufficient  ground  of  evidence.  When 
he  says — 

"/.o,  all  these  things  worketh   God 
Oftentimes  with  man, 
To  bring  back  his  soul  from  the  pit" — • 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  353 

the  design  is  pious,  but  the  great  question  of  the  book 
is  not  touched.  The  righteous  suffer  like  the  wicked 
from  disease,  bereavement,  disappointment,  anxiety. 
Fa'cu  when  their  integrity  is  vindicated  the  lost  years 
and  early  vigour  are  not  restored.  It  is  useless  to  deal 
in  the  way  of  pure  fancy  with  the  troubles  of  existence. 
We  say  to  Elihu  and  all  his  school,  Let  us  be  at  the 
truth,  let  us  know  the  absolute  reality.  There  are 
valleys  of  human  sorrow,  suffering,  and  trial  in  which 
the  shadows  grow  deeper  as  the  traveller  presses  on, 
where  the  best  are  often  most  afflicted.  We  need 
another  interpreter  than  Elihu,  one  who  suffers  like  us 
and  is  made  perfect  by  suffering,  through  it  entering 
into   His  glory. 

An  invocation  addressed  by  Elihu  to  the  bystanders 
begins  chap,  xxxiv.  Again  he  emphatically  asserts  his 
right  to  speak,  his  claim  to  be  a  guide  of  those  who 
think  on  the  ways  of  God.  He  appeals  to  sound  reason 
and  he  takes  his  auditors  into  counsel — ^'  Let  us  choose 
to  ourselves  judgment ;  let  us  know  among  ourselves  what 
is  goody  The  proposal  is  that  there  shall  be  conference 
on  the  subject  of  Job's  claim.  But  Elihu  alone  speaks. 
It  is  he  who  selects  ''  what  is  good." 

Certain  words  that  fell  from  the  lips  of  Job  are  again 
his  text.  Job  hath  said,  I  am  righteous,  I  am  in  the 
right ;  and,  God  hath  taken  away  my  judgment  or 
vindication.  When  those  words  were  used  the  mean- 
ing of  Job  was  that  the  circumstances  in  which  he  had 
been  placed,  the  troubles  appointed  by  God  seemed  to 
prove  him  a  transgressor.  But  was  he  to  rest  under 
a  charge  he  knew  to  be  untrue  ?  Stricken  with  an 
incurable  wound  though  he  had  not  transgressed,  was 
he  to  lie  against  his  right  by  remaining  silent  ?     This, 

23 


354  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

says  Elihi],  is  Job's  unfounded  impious  indictment  of 
the  Almighty  ;  and  he  asks  :  — 

"  What  mail  is  like  Job, 
Who  drinketh  up  impiety  like  water, 
Who  goeth  in  company  with  the  ivorkers  of  imqiiity, 
And  walkeih  with  wicked  men  ?" 

Job  had  spoken  of  his  right  which  God  had  taken 
away.  What  was  his  right  ?  Was  he,  as  he  affirmed, 
without  transgression  ?  On  the  contrary,  his  principles 
were  irreligious.  There  was  infidelity  beneath  his 
apparent  piety.  Elihu  will  prove  that  so  far  from 
being  clear  of  blame  he  has  been  im.bibing  wrong 
opinions  and  joining  the  company  of  the  wicked.  This 
attack  shows  the  temper  of  the  writer.  No  doubt 
certain  expressions  put  into  the  mouth  of  Job  by  the 
original  dramatist  might  be  taken  as  impeaching  the 
goodness  or  the  justice  of  God.  But  to  assert  that 
even  the  most  unguarded  passages  of  the  book  made 
for  impiety  was  a  great  mistake.  Faith  in  God  is  to 
be  traced  not  obscurely  but  as  a  shaft  of  light  through 
all  the  speeches  put  into  the  mouth  of  his  hero  by  the 
poet.  One  whose  mind  is  bound  by  certain  pious 
forms  of  thought  may  fail  to  see  the  light,  but  it  shines 
nevertheless. 

The  attempt  made  by  Elihu  to  estabHsh  his  charge 
has  an  appearance  of  success.  Job,  he  says,  is  one 
who  drinks  up  impiety  like  water  and  walks  with 
wicked  men, — 

"/or  Jie  hath  said,  It  profiteth  a  man  nothing 
That  he  should  delight  himself  with  God^ 

If  this  were  true,  Job  would  indeed  be  proved  irreligious. 
Such  a  statement  strikes  at  the  root  of  faith  and 
obedience.     But  is   Elihu  representing  the   text  with 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC   WISDOM.  355 


anything  like  precision  ?     In  chap.  ix.  22  these  words 
are  put  into  Job's  mouth  : — 

"  It  is  all  one,  therefore  I  say, 
He  destroy eth  the  perfect  and  tlie  zvickedy 

God  is  strong  and  is  breaking  him  with  a  tempest. 
Job  finds  it  useless  to  defend  himself  and  maintain  that 
he  is  perfect.  In  the  midst  of  the  storm  he  is  so  tossed 
that  he  despises  his  life  ;  and  in  perplexity  he  cries, — 
It  is  all  one  whether  I  am  righteous  or  not,  God 
destroys  the  good  and  the  vile  alike.  Again  we  find 
him  saying,  "  Wherefore  do  the  wicked  live,  become  old, 
yea,  are  mighty  in  power  ?  "  And  in  another  passage 
he  inquires  why  the  Almighty  does  not  appoint  days 
of  judgment.  These  are  the  expressions  on  which 
Elihu  founds  his  charge,  but  the  precise  words  attributed 
to  Job  were  never  used  by  him,  and  in  many  places  he 
both  said  and  implied  that  the  favour  of  God  was  his 
greatest  joy.  The  second  author  is  either  misappre- 
hending or  perverting  the  language  of  his  predecessor. 
His  argument  accordingly  does  not  succeed. 

Passing  at  present  from  the  charge  of  impiety,  Elihu 
takes  up  the  suggestion  that  Divine  providence  is  unjust 
and  sets  himself  to  show  that,  whether  men  delight 
themselves  in  the  Almighty  or  not.  He  is  certainly 
All-righteous.  And  in  this  contention,  so  long  as  he 
keeps  to  generalities  and  does  not  take  special  account 
of  the  case  which  has  roused  the  whole  controversy, 
he  speaks  with  some  power.  His  argument  comes 
properly  to  this.  If  you  ascribe  injustice  or  partiality 
to  Him  whom  you  call  God,  you  cannot  be  thinking  of 
the  Divine  King.  From  His  very  nature  and  from  His 
position  as  Lord  of  all,  God  cannot  be  unjust.  As 
Maker  and  Preserver  of  life  He  must  be  faithful, 


356  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


^' Far  he  from  God  a  wickedness, 
From  the  Almighty  an  injustice  ! 
For  every  one^s  work  He  rcqniteth  him, 
And  causcth  each  to  find  according  to  his  ways. 
Surely,   too,   God  doeth   not  ivickedness, 
The  Almighty  pervcrteth  not  justice." 

Has  God  any  motive  for  being  unjust  ?  Can  any 
one  urge  Him  to  what  is  against  His  nature  ?  The 
thing  is  impossible.  So  far  Elihu  has  all  with  him, 
for  all  alike  believe  in  the  sovereignty  of  God.  The 
Most  High,  responsible  to  Himself,  must  be  conceived 
of  as  perfectl}^  just.  But  would  He  be  so  if  He  were 
to  destroy  the  whole  of  His  creatures  ?  Elihu  says, 
God's  sovereignty  over  all  gives  Him  the  right  to  act 
according  to  His  will ;  and  His  will  determines  not 
onl}'  what  is,  but  what  is  right  in  every  case. 

"  Who  hath  given  Him  a  charge  over  the  earth  ? 
Or  who  hath  disposed  the  whole  world? 
Were  He  to  set  His  rnind  upon  Himself, 
To  gather  to  Himself  His  spirit  and  His  breath, 
Then  all  flesh  would  die  together, 
Man  would  return  to  his  dust." 

The  life  of  all  creatures  implies  that  the  mind  of  the 
Creator  goes  forth  to  His  universe,  to  rule  it,  to  supply 
the  needs  of  all  living  beings.  He  is  not  wrapped  up 
in  Himself,  but  having  given  life  He  provides  for  its 
maintenance. 

Another  personal  appeal  in  verse  1 6  is  meant  to 
secure  attention  to  what  follows,  in  which  the  idea  is 
carried  out  that  the  Creator  must  rule  His  creatures  by 
a  law  of  justice. 

"Shall  one  that  hateth  right  be  able  to  control? 
Or  ivilt  thoit  condemn  the  Just,  the  Mighty  One  ? 
Is  "it  fit  to  say  to  a  king,   Thou  wicked? 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXlLlC    WISDOM.  357 

Or  to  princes,   Ye  ungodly  ? 

How  much  less  to  Him  lulio  accepts  not  the  persons  of  princes, 

Nor  regardeth  the  rich  more  than  the  poor?"" 

Here  the  principle  is  good,  the  argument  or  illustration 
inconclusive.  There  is  a  strong  foundation  in  the 
thought  that  God,  who  could  if  He  desired  withdraw 
all  life,  but  on  the  other  hand  sustains  it,  must  rule 
according  to  a  law  of  perfect  righteousness.  If  this 
principle  were  kept  in  the  front  and  followed  up  we 
should  have  a  fruitful  argument.  But  the  philosophy 
of  it  is  beyond  this  thinker,  and  he  weakens  his  case  by 
pointing  to  human  rulers  and  arguing  from  the  duty  of 
subjects  to  abide  by  their  decision  and  at  least  attribute 
to  them  the  virtue  of  justice.  No  doubt  society  must 
be  held  together  by  a  head  either  hereditary  or  chosen 
by  the  people,  and,  so  long  as  his  rule  is  necessary  to 
the  well-being  of  the  realm,  what  he  commands  must 
be  obeyed  and  what  he  does  must  be  approved  as  if 
it  were  right.  But  the  writer  either  had  an  excep- 
tionally favourable  experience  of  kings,  as  one,  let  us 
suppose,  honoured  like  Daniel  in  the  Babylonian  exile, 
or  his  faith  in  the  Divine  right  of  princes  blinded  him 
to  much  injustice.  It  is  a  mark  of  his  defective  logic 
that  he  rests  his  case  for  the  perfect  righteousness 
of  God  upon  a  sentiment  or  what  may  be  called 
an  accident. 

And  when  Elihu  proceeds,  it  is  with  some  rambling 
sentences  in  which  the  suddenness  of  death,  the  in- 
security of  human  things,  and  the  trouble  and  distress 
coming  now  on  whole  nations  now  on  workers  of 
iniquity  are  all  thrown  together  for  the  demonstration 
of  Divine  justice.  We  hear  in  these  verses  (20  to  28) 
the  echoes  of  disaster  and  exile,  of  the  fall  of  thrones 
and   empires.      Because    the    alUkte5Ttji^f)t|8 r ^2j^i^ah 


O^ 


^ 


358  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

were  preserved  in  captivity  and  restored  to  their  own 
land,  the  history  of  the  period  which  is  before  the 
writer's  mind  appears  to  him  to  supply  a  conclusive 
proof  of  the  righteousness  of  the  Almighty.  But  we 
fail  to  see  it.  Eliphaz  and  Bildad  might  have  spoken 
in  the  same  terms  as  Elihu  uses  here.  Everything  is 
assumed  that  Job  by  force  of  circumstance  has  been 
compelled  to  doubt.  The  whole  is  a  homily  on  God's 
irresponsible  power  and  penetrating  wisdom  which,  it 
is  taken  for  granted,  must  be  exercised  in  righteousness. 
Where  proof  is  needed  nothing  but  assertion  is  offered. 
It  is  easy  to  say  that  when  a  man  is  struck  down  in  the 
open  sight  of  others  it  is  because  he  has  been  cruel  to 
the  poor  and  the  Almighty  has  been  moved  by  the  cry 
of  the  afflicted.  But  here  is  Job  struck  down  in  the 
open  sight  of  others;  and  is  it  for  harshness  to  the 
poor  ?  If  Elihu  does  not  mean  that,  what  does  he 
mean  ?  The  conclusion  is  the  same  as  that  reached 
by  the  three  friends ;  and  this  speaker  poses,  like  the 
rest,  as  a  generous  man  declaring  that  the  iniquity  God 
is  always  sure  to  punish  is  tyrannical  treatment  of  the 
orphan  and  the  widow. 

Leaving  this  unfortunate  attempt  at  reasoning  we 
enter  at  verse  3 1  on  a  passage  in  which  the  circumstances 
of  Job  are  directly  dealt  with. 

"/or  Jiatli  any  one  spoken  thus  unto  God, 
'  /  have  suffered  though  I  offend  not  : 
That  which  I  see  not  teach  Thou  ; 
If  I  have  done  iniquity  I  will  do  it  no  more  '  ? 
Shall  God^s  recompense  be  according  to  thy  mind 
That  thou  dost  reject  it? 
For  thou  must  choose,  and  not  I : 
Therefore  speak  what  thou  knowesty 

Here  the  argument  seems  to  be  that  a  man  like  Job, 


xxxii.-xxxiv.]  POST-EXILIC   JVISDOM.  359 

assuming  himself  to  be  innocent,  if  he  bows  down 
before  the  sovereign  Judge,  confesses  ignorance,  and 
even  goes  so  far  as  to  acknowledge  that  he  may  have 
sinned  unwittingly  and  promises  amendment,  such  a 
one  has  no  right  to  dictate  to  God  or  to  complain  if 
suffering  and  trouble  continue.  God  may  afflict  as  long 
as  He  pleases  without  showing  why  He  afflicts.  And  if 
the  sufferer  dares  to  complain  he  does  so  at  his  own 
peril.  Elihu  would  not  be  the  man  to  complain  in  such 
a  case.  He  would  suffer  on  silently.  But  the  choice 
is  for  Job  to  make ;  and  he  has  need  to  consider  well 
before  he  comes  to  a  decision.  Elihu  implies  that  as  yet 
Job  is  in  the  wrong  mind,  and  he  closes  this  part  of  his 
address  in  a  sort  of  brutal  triumph  over  the  sufferer 
because  he  had  complained  of  his  sufferings.  He  puts 
the  condemnation  into  the  mouth  of  ''  men  of  under- 
standing " ;  but  it  is  his  own. 

"  Men  of  understanding  will  say  to  nic, 
And  the  wise  who  hears  me  will  say : — 
Job  speaks  without  intelligence, 
And  his  words  are  without  wisdom  : 
Would  that  Job  were  tried  unto  the  end 
For  his  answers  after  the  manner  of  wicked  ineii. 
For  he  addeth  rebellion  to  his  sin  ; 
He  clappeth  his  hands  amongst  us 
And  multiplieth  his  words  against  God.''' 

The  ideas  of  Elihu  are  few  and  fixed.  When  his 
attempts  to  convince  betray  his  weakness  in  argument, 
he  falls  back  on  the  vulgar  expedient  of  brow-beating 
the  defendant.  He  is  a  type  of  many  would-be 
interpreters  of  Divine  providence,  forcing  a  theory  of 
religion  which  admirably  fits  those  who  reckon  them- 
selves favourites  of  heaven,  but  does  nothing  for  the 
many  lives  that  are  all  along  under  a  cloud  of  trouble 
and  grief.     The  religious  creed  which  alone  can  satisfy 


360  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

is  one  throwing  light  adown  the  darkest  ravines  human 
beings  have  to  thread,  in  ignorance  of  God  which  they 
cannot  help,  in  pain  of  body  and  feebleness  of  mind  not 
caused  by  their  own  sin  but  by  the  sins  of  others,  in 
slavery  or  something  worse  than  slavery. 


XXVI. 

THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE. 
Chaps,  xxxv.-xxxvii. 

AFTER  a  long  digression  Elihu  returns  to  consider 
the  statement  ascribed  to  Job,  "  It  profiteth  a 
man  nothing  that  he  should  delight  himself  with  God  " 
(chap,  xxxiv.  9).  This  he  laid  hold  of  as  meaning 
that  the  Almighty  is  unjust,  and  the  accusation  has 
been  dealt  with.  Now  he  resumes  the  question  of  the 
profitableness  of  religion. 

"  Thinkest  thou  this  to  be  in  thy  right, 
And  callest  thoic  it  ^  My  just  cause  before  God/ 
That  thou  dost  ask  what  advantage  it  is  to  thee, 
And  ^  What  profit  have  I  more  than  if  I  Iiad  sinned^?" 

In  one  of  his  replies  Job,  speaking  of  the  wicked, 
represented  them  as  saying,  ''  What  is  the  Almighty 
that  we  should  serve  Him  ?  and  what  profit  should  we 
have  if  we  pray  unto  Him?"  (chap.  xxi.  15).  He 
added  then,  "  The  counsel  of  the  wicked  be  far  from 
me."  Job  is  now  declared  to  be  of  the  same  opinion  as 
the  wicked  whom  he  condemned.  The  man  who  again 
and  again  appealed  to  God  from  the  judgment  of  his 
friends,  who  found  consolation  in  the  thought  that  his 
witness  was  in  heaven,  who,  when  he  was  scorned, 
sought  God  in  tears  and  hoped  against  hope  for  His 
redemption,  is  charged  with  holding  faith  and  religion 
of  no  advantage.     Is   it   in   misapprehension   or  with 

-.61 


362  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

design  the  charge  is  made  ?  Job  did  indeed  occasion- 
ally seem  to  deny  the  profit  of  religion,  but  only  when 
the  false  theology  of  his  friends  drove  him  to  false 
judgment.  His  real  conviction  was  right.  Once 
Eliphaz  pressed  the  same  accusation  and  lost  his  way 
in  trying  to  prove  it.  Elihu  has  no  fresh  evidence,  and 
he  too  falls  into  error.  He  confounds  the  original . 
charge  against  Job  with  another,  and  makes  an  offence 
of  that  which  the  whole  scope  of  the  poem  and  our 
sense  of  right  completely  justify. 

'^  Look  unto  the  heavens  and  see, 
And  regard  the  clouds  which  are  higher  than  thou. 
If  thou  sinnest,  what  doest  thou  against  Him  ? 
Or  if  thy  transgressions  be  mtdtiplied,  what  doest  thou  unto  Him  ? 
If  thou  be  righteous,  what  givest  thou  Him  ? 
Or  what  receiveth  He  at  thy  hands  ?  " 

Elihu  is  actually  proving,  not  that  Job  expects  too  little 
from  religion  and  finds  no  profit  in  it,  but  that  he 
expects  too  much.  Anxious  to  convict,  he  will  show 
that  man  has  no  right  to  make  his  faith  depend  on 
God's  care  for  his  integrity.  The  prologue  showed 
the  Almighty  pleased  with  His  servant's  faithfulness. 
That,  says  Elihu,  is  a  mistake. 

Consider  the  clouds  and  the  heavens  which  are  far 
above  the  world.  Thou  canst  not  touch  them,  affect 
them.  The  sun  and  moon  and  stars  shine  with  un- 
diminished brightness  however  vile  men  may  be.  The 
clouds  come  and  go  quite  independently  of  the  crimes  of 
men.  God  is  above  those  clouds,  above  that  firmament. 
Neither  can  the  evil  hands  of  men  reach  His  throne, 
nor  the  righteousness  of  men  enhance  His  glory.  It  is 
precisely  what  we  heard  from  the  lips  of  Eliphaz  (chap, 
xxii.  2-4),  an  argument  which  abuses  man  for  the  sake 
of  exalting  God.     Elihu  has  no  thought  of  the  spiritual 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  363 

relationship  between  man  and  his  Creator.  He  advances 
with  perfect  composure  as  a  hard  dogma  what  Job  said 
in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul. 

If,  how^ever,  the  question  must  still  be  answered, 
What  good  end  is  served  by  human  virtue  ?  the  reply 
is, — 

"  7'Ay  wickedness  may  hurt  a  matt  as  thou  art; 
And  thy  righteousness  may  profit  a  son  of  man.''' 

God  sustains  the  righteous  and  punishes  the  wicked, 
not  for  the  sake  of  righteousness  itself  but  purely  for 
the  sake  of  men.  The  law  is  that  of  expediency.  Let 
not  man  dream  of  witnessing  for  God,  or  upholding  any 
eternal  principle  dear  to  God.  Let  him  confine  religious 
fidelity  and  aspiration  to  their  true  sphere,  the  service 
of  mankind.  Regarding  which  doctrine  we  may  simply 
say  that,  if  religion  is  profitable  in  this  way  only,  it  may 
as  well  be  frankly  given  up  and  the  cult  of  happiness 
adopted  for  it  everywhere.  But  Elihu  is  not  true  to  his 
own  dogma. 

The  next  passage,  beginning  with  verse  9,  seems  to 
be  an  indictment  of  those  who  in  grievous  trouble  do 
not  see  and  acknowledge  the  Divine  blessings  which 
are  the  compensations  of  their  lot.  Many  in  the  world 
are  sorely  oppressed.  Elihu  has  heard  their  piteous 
cries.  But  he  has  this  charge  against  them,  that  they 
do  not  realise  what  it  is  to  be  subjects  of  the  heavenly 
King. 

"  By  reasoit  of  the  multitude  of  oppressions  meit  cry  out, 
They  cry  for  help  by  reason  of  the  arm  of  the  mighty ; 
But  none  saith,   Where  is  God  my  Maker, 
Who  giveth  songs  in  the  night. 

Who  tcacheth  us  more  than  the  beasts  of  the  earth. 
And  maketh  us  wiser  than  the  foiuls  of  heaven  ? 
There  they  cry  because  of  the  pride  of  evil  men  ; 
But  none  giveth  answer^ 


364  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

These   cries  of  the  oppressed   are   complaints  against 
pain,    natural   outbursts   of  feeling,  Hke  the  moans  of 
wounded  animals.     But  those  who  are  cruelly  wronged 
may  turn  to  God  and  endeavour  to  realise  their  position 
as   intelligent  creatures  of  His  who  should   feel   after 
Him   and   find   Him.     If  they  do   so,   then  hope   will 
mingle    with    their   sorrow    and    light    arise    on    their 
darkness.     For  in  the  deepest  midnight  God's  presence 
cheers  the  soul  and  tunes  the  voice  to  songs  of  praise. 
The  intention  is  to  show  that  when  prayer  seems  of 
no  avail  and  religion  does  not  help,  it  is  because  there 
is  no  real  faith,  no  right  apprehension  by  men  of  their 
relation   to  God.     Elihu,  however,  fails  to  see  that  if 
the  righteousness  of  men  is  not  important  to  God  as 
righteousness,  much  less  will  He  be  interested  in  their 
grievances.     The  bond  of  union  between  the  heavenly 
and  the  earthly  is  broken ;  and  it  cannot  be  restored 
by  showing  that  the  grief  of  men  touches  God  more 
than  their  sin.     Job's  distinction  is   that  he  clings  to 
the  ethical  fellowship  between  a  sincere  man  and  his 
Maker  and  to  the  claim  and  the  hope  involved  in  that 
relationship.     There  we   have  the  jewel   in  the  lotus- 
flower  of  this  book,  as  in  all  true  and  noble  literature. 
Elihu,  like  the  rest,  is  far  beneath  Job.     If  he  can  be 
said  to  have  a  glimmering  of  the  idea  it  is  only  that  he 
may  oppose  it.     This  moral  affinity  with  God  as  the 
principle  of  human  life  remains  the  secret  of  the  inspired 
author ;  it  lifts  him  above  the  finest  minds  of  the  Gentile 
world.     The   compiler  of   the  Elihu  portion,  although 
he  has  the  admirable  sentiment  that  God  giveth  songs 
in    the    night,    has    missed    the    great    and    elevating 
truth    which    fills    with    prophetic    force    the    original 
poem. 

From  verse  14  onward  to  the  close  of  the  chapter 


XXXV.-XXXVl 


.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  365 


the  argument  is  turned  directly  against  Job,  but  is  so 
obscure  that  the  meaning  can  only  be  conjectured. 

*^  Sit  rely  God  ivill  not  hear  vanity^ 
Neither  ivill  the  Almighty  regard  it.'' 

If  any  one  cries  out  against  suffering  as  an  animal  in 
pain  might  cry,  that  is  vanity,  not  merely  emptiness 
but  impiety,  and  God  will  not  hear  nor  regard  such  a 
cry.  Elihu  means  that  Job's  complaints  were  essentially 
of  this  nature.  True,  he  had  called  on  God ;  that 
cannot  be  denied.  He  had  laid  his  case  before  the 
Judge  and  professed  to  expect  vindication.  But  he 
was  at  fault  in  that  very  appeal,  for  it  was  still  of 
suffering  he  complained,  and  he  was  still  impious. 

•^  Even  zvhen  thou  say  est  that  thou  seest  Him  not, 
That  thy  cause  is  before  Him  and  thou  ivaitest  for  Him ; 
Even  then  because  His  anger  visiteth  not, 
And  He  doth  not  strictly  regard  transgression, 
Therefore  doth  fob  open  liis  mouth  in  vanity, 
He  muUiplieth  words  •without  knowledge.'' 

The  argument  seems  to  be :  God  rules  in  absolute 
supremacy,  and  His  will  is  not  to  be  questioned ;  it 
may  not  be  demanded  of  Him  that  He  do  this  or 
that.  What  is  a  man  that  he  should  dare  to  state  any 
"righteous  cause"  of  his  before  God  and  claim  justi- 
fication ?  Let  Job  understand  that  the  Almighty  has 
been  showing  leniency,  holding  back  His  hand.  He 
might  kill  any  man  outright  and  there  would  be  no 
appeal  nor  ground  of  complaint.  It  is  because  He 
does  not  strictly  regard  iniquity  that  Job  is  still  alive. 
Therefore  appeals  and  hopes  are  offensive  to  God. 

The  insistence  of  this  part  of  the  book  reaches  a 
climax  here  and  becomes  repulsive.  EHhu's  opinions 
oscillate  we  may  say  between  Deism  and   Positivism, 


366  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


and  on  either  side  he  is  a  special  pleader.  It  is  by  the 
inercy  of  the  Almighty  all  men  live;  yet  the  reasoning 
of  Elihu  makes  mercy  so  remote  and  arbitrary  that 
prayer  becomes  an  impertinence.  No  doubt  there  are 
some  cries  out  of  trouble  which  cannot  find  response. 
But  he  ought  to  maintain,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
if  sincere  prayer  is  addressed  to  God  by  one  in 
sore  affliction  desiring  to  know  wherein  he  has 
sinned  and  imploring  deliverance,  that  appeal  shall  be 
heard.  This,  however,  is  denied.  For  the  purpose  of 
convicting  Job  Elihu  takes  the  singular  position  that 
though  there  is  mercy  with  God  man  is  neither  to 
expect  nor  ask  it,  that  to  make  any  claim  upon  Divine 
grace  is  impious.  And  tl.ere  is  no  promise  that  suffer- 
ing will  bring  spiritual  gain.  God  has  a  right  to  afflict 
His  creatures,  and  what  He  does  is  to  be  endured 
without  a  murmur  because  it  is  less  than  He  has  the 
right  to  appoint.  The  doctrine  is  adamantine  and  at 
the  same  time  rent  asunder  by  the  error  which  is 
common  to  all  Job's  opponents.  The  soul  of  a  man 
resolutely  faithful  like  Job  would  turn  away  from  it 
with  righteous  contempt  and  indignation.  The  light 
which  Elihu  professes  to  enjoy  is  a  midnight  of  dogmatic 
darkness. 

Passing  to  chap,  xxxvi.  we  are  still  among  vague 
surmisings  which  appear  the  more  inconsequent  that 
the  speaker  makes  a  large  claim  of  knowledge. 

"  Suffer  nie  a  little  and  I  will  show  thee, 
For  I  have  somewhat  yet  to  say  on  God's  behalf. 
I  will  fetch  niy  knowledge  from  afar. 
And  will  ascribe  righteousness  to  my  Maker. 
For  truly  my  words  are  not  false : 
One  that  is  perfect  in  knowledge  is  with  thee" 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  367 

Elihu  is  zealous  for  the  honour  of  that  great  Being 
whom  he  adores  because  from  Him  he  has  received 
Hfe  and  light  and  power.  He  is  sure  of  what  he  says, 
and  proceeds  with  a  firm  step.  Preparation  thus  made, 
the  vindication  of  God  follows — a  series  of  sayings 
which  draw  to  something  useful  only  when  the  doctrine 
becomes  hopelessly  inconsistent  with  what  has  already 
been  laid  down. 

"  Behold  God  is  mighty  and  despiseth  not  any ; 
He  is  mighty  in  strength  of  understanding. 
He  preserveth  not  the  life  of  the  wicked, 
But  giveth  right  to  the  poor. 

He  withdrawcth  not  His  eyes  front  the  righteous, 
But,  with  kings  on  the  throne, 

He  setteth  them  up  for  ever,  and  they  are  exalted. 
And  if  they  be  bound  in  fetters, 
If  they  be  held  in  cords  of  affliction, 
Then  He  showeth  them  their  work 

And  their  transgressions,  that  they  have  acted  proudly. 
He  openeth  their  ear  to  discipline 
And  comniayideth  that  tlicy  return  from  iiiiquity." 

"  God  despiseth  not  any  " — this  appears  to  have  some- 
thing of  the  humane  breadth  hitherto  wanting  in  the 
discourses  of  Elihu.  He  does  not  mean,  however,  that 
the  Almighty  estimates  every  Hfe  without  contempt, 
counting  the  feeblest  and  most  sinful  as  His  creatures; 
but  that  He  passes  over  none  in  the  administration 
of  His  justice.  Illustrations  of  the  doctrine  as  Elihu 
intends  it  to  be  received  are  supplied  in  the  couplet, 
"  He  preserveth  not  the  life  of  the  wicked,  but  giveth 
right  to  the  poor."  The  poor  are  helped,  the  wicked 
are  given  up  to  death.  As  for  the  righteous,  two  very 
different  methods  of  dealing  with  them  are  described. 
For  Elihu  himself,  and  others  favoured  with  prosperity, 
the  law  of  the  Divine  order  has  been,  "  With  kings  en 


368  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

the  throne  God  setteth  them  up  for  ever."  A  personal 
consciousness  of  merit  leading  to  honourable  rank  in 
the  state  seems  at  variance  w^ith  the  hard  dogma  of  the 
evil  desert  of  all  men.  But  the  rabbi  has  his  own 
position  to  fortify.  The  alternative,  however,  could 
not  be  kept  out  of  sight,  since  the  misery  of  exile  was 
a  vivid  recollection,  if  not  an  actual  experience,  with 
many  reputable  men  who  were  bound  in  fetters  and 
held  by  cords  of  affliction.  It  is  implied  that,  though 
of  good  character,  these  are  not  equal  in  righteousness 
to  the  favourites  of  kings.  Some  errors  require  cor- 
rection ;  and  these  men  are  cast  into  trouble,  that  they 
may  learn  to  renounce  pride  and  turn  from  iniquity. 
Elihu  preaches  the  benefits  of  chastening,  and  in 
touching  on  pride  he  comes  near  the  case  of  Job.  But 
the  argument  is  rude  and  indiscriminative.  To  admit 
that  a  man  is  righteous  and  then  speak  of  his  trans- 
gressions and  iniquity,  must  mean  that  he  is  really 
far  beneath  his  reputation  or  the  estimate  he  has 
formed  of  himself. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  precisely  what  Elihu  considers 
the  proper  frame  of  mind  which  God  will  reward. 
There  must  be  humility,  obedience,  submission  to  dis- 
cipline, renunciation  of  past  errors.  But  we  remember 
the  doctrine  that  a  man's  righteousness  cannot  profit 
God,  can  only  profit  his  fellow-men.  Does  Elihu,  then, 
make  submission  to  the  powers  that  be  almost  the 
same  thing  as  religion  ?  His  reference  to  high  position 
beside  the  throne  is  to  a  certain  extent  suggestive  of  this. 

"  If  they  obey  and  serve  God, 
They  shall  spend  their  days  in  prosperity 
And  their  years  in  pleasures. 
But  if  they  obey  not 
They  shall  perish  by  the  sivord, 
And  they  shall  die  without  knoiuledge.'' 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  369 

Elihu  thinks  over  much  of  kings  and  exaltation  beside 
them  and  of  years  of  prosperity  and  pleasure,  and 
his  own  view  of  human  character  and  merit  follows 
the  judgment  of  those  who  have  honours  to  bestow 
and  love  the  servile  pliant  mind. 

In  the  dark  hours  of  sorrow  and  pain,  says  Elihu, 
men  have  the  choice  to  begin  life  anew  in  lowly  obedi- 
ence or  else  to  harden  their  hearts  against  the  provi- 
dence of  God.  Instruction  has  been  offered,  and  they 
must  either  embrace  it  or  trample  it  under  foot.  And 
passing  to  the  case  of  Job,  who,  it  is  plain,  is  afflicted 
because  he  needs  chastisement,  not  having  attained 
to  Elihu's  perfectness  in  the  art  of  life,  the  speaker 
cautiously  offers  a  promise  and  gives  an  emphatic 
warning. 

"  He  delivereth  the  afflicted  by  his  affliction 
And  openeth  their  ear  in  oppression. 

Yea,  He  would  allure  thee  out  of  the  mouth  of  thy  distress 
Into  a  broad  place  where  is  no  straitness ; 
And  that  which  is  set  on  thy  table  shall  be  full  of  fatness. 
But  if  thou  art  full  of  the  judgment  of  the  wicked, 
Judgment  and  justice  shall  keep  hold  on  thee. 
For  beware  lest  tvrath  lead  thee  away  to  mockery, 
And  let  not  the  greatness  of  the  ransom  turn  thee   aside. 
Will  thy  riches  suffice  that  are  without  stint? 
Or  all  the  forces  of  thy  strengtJi  ? 
Choose  not  that  night, 

When  the  peoples  are  cut  off  in  their  place  : 
Take  heed  thou  turn  not  to  iniquity, 
For  this  titou  hast  chosen  rather  than  affliction^ 

A  side  reference  here  shows  that  the  original  writer 
dealing  with  his  hero  has  been  replaced  by  another 
who  does  not  realise  the  circumstances  of  Job  with 
the  same  dramatic  skill.  His  appeal  is  forcible,  how- 
ever, in  its  place.  There  was  danger  that  one  long 
and  grievously  afflicted  might   be  led  away  by  wrath 

24 


37o  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 

and  turn  to  mockery  or  scornfulness,  so  forfeiting  the 
possibility  of  redemption.  Job  might  also  say  in 
bitterness  of  soul  that  he  had  paid  a  great  price  to 
God  in  losing  all  his  riches.  The  warning  has  point, 
although  Job  never  betrayed  the  least  disposition  to 
think  the  loss  of  property  a  ransom  exacted  of  him  by 
God.  Elihu's  suggestion  to  this  effect  is  by  no  means 
evangelical ;  it  springs  from  a  worldly  conception  of 
what  is  valuable  to  man  and  of  great  account  with  the 
Almighty.  Observe,  however,  the  reminiscences  of 
national  disaster.  The  picture  of  the  night  of  a  people's 
calamity  had  force  for  Elihu's  generation,  but  here  it 
is  singularly  inappropriate.  Job's  night  had  come  to 
himself  alone.  If  his  afQictions  had  been  shared  by 
others,  a  different  complexion  would  have  been  given 
to  them.  The  final  thrust,  that  the  sufferer  had  chosen 
iniquity  rather  than  profitable  chastisement,  has  no 
point  whatsoever. 

The  section  closes  with  a  strophe  (vv.  22-25)  which, 
calling  for  submission  to  the  Divine  ordinance  and 
praise  of  the  doings  of  the  Almighty,  forms  a  transition 
to  the  final  theme  of  the  address. 

Chap,  xxxvi.  26 — xxxvii.  24.  There  need  be  little 
hesitation  in  regarding  this  passage  as  an  ode  supplied 
to  the  second  writer  or  simply  quoted  by  him  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  strength  to  his  argument.  Scarcely 
a  single  note  in  the  portion  of  EHhu's  address  already 
considered  approaches  the  poetical  art  of  this.  The 
glory  of  God  in  His  creation  and  His  unsearchable 
wisdom  are  illustrated  from  the  phenomena  of  the 
heavens  without  reference  to  the  previous  sections  of 
the  address.  One  who  was  more  a  poet  than  a  reasoner 
might  indeed  halt  and  stumble  as  the  speaker  has  done 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  371 


up  to  this  point  and  find  liberty  when  he  reached  a  theme 
congenial  to  his  mind.  But  there  are  points  at  which 
we  seem  to  hear  the  voice  of  Eiihu  interrupting  the  flow 
of  the  ode  as  no  poet  would  check  his  muse.  At  chap, 
xxxvii.  14  the  sentence  is  interjected,  like  an  aside  of 
the  writer  drawing  attention  to  the  words  he  is  quoting, 
— '^Hearken  imio  this,  O  Job  ;  stand  still  and  consider  the 
wondrous  works  of  God.^^  Again  (vv.  19,  20),  between 
the  description  of  the  burnished  mirror  of  the  sky  and 
that  of  the  clearness  after  the  sweeping  wind,  without 
any  reference  to  the  train  of  thought,  the  ejaculation  is 
introduced, — "  Teach  us  what  we  shall  say  unto  Him,  for 
we  cannot  order  our  speech  by  reason  of  darkness.  Shall 
it  be  told  Him  that  I  speak  ?  If  a  man  speak  surely  he 
shall  be  swallowed  up."  The  final  verses  also  seem  to 
be  in  the  manner  of  Elihu. 

But  the  ode  as  a  whole,  though  it  has  the  fault  of 
endeavouring  to  forestall  what  is  put  into  the  mouth  of 
the  Almighty  speaking  from  the  storm,  is  one  of  the 
fine  passages  of  the  book.  We  pass  from  ''cold,  heavy 
and  pretentious"  dogmatic  discussions  to  free  and 
striking  pictures  of  nature,  with  the  feehng  that  one 
is  guiding  us  who  can  present  in  eloquent  language 
the  fruits  of  his  study  of  the  works  of  God.  The 
descriptions  have  been  noted  for  their  felicity  and 
power  by  such  observers  as  Baron  Humboldt  and  Mr. 
Ruskin.  While  the  point  of  view  is  that  invariably 
taken  by  Hebrew  writers,  the  originahty  of  the  ode 
lies  in  fresh  observation  and  record  of  atmospheric 
phenomena,  especially  of  the  rain  and  snow,  rolling 
clouds,  thunderstorms  and  winds.  The  pictures  do 
not  seem  to  belong  to  the  Arabian  desert  but  to  a  fertile 
peopled  region  like  Aram  or  the  Chaldaean  plain.  Upon 
the  fields  and  dwellings  of  men,  not  on  wide  expanses 


372  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


of  barren  sand,  the  rains  and  snows  fall,  and  they  seal 
up  the  hand  of  man.  The  lightning  clouds  cover  the 
face  of  the  "  habitable  world";  by  them  God  judgeth  the 
peoples. 

In  the  opening  verses  the  theme  of  the  ode  is  set 
forth — the  greatness  of  God,  the  vast  duration  of  Mis 
being,  transcending  human  knowledge. 

^^  Behold  God  is  great  and  we  know  Hhn  not. 
The  number  of  His  years  is  tinsearchable .'' 

To  estimate  His  majesty  or  fathom  the  depths  of  His 
eternal  will  is  far  be3^ond  us  who  are  creatures  of  a  day. 
Yet  we  may  have  some  vision  of  His  power.  Look  up 
when  rain  is  falling,  mark  how  the  clouds  that  float 
.above  distil  the  drops  of  water  and  pour  down  great 
floods  upon  the  earth.  Mark  also  how  the  dark  cloud 
spreading  from  the  horizon  obscures  the  blue  expanse 
of  the  sky.  We  cannot  understand ;  but  we  can  realise 
to  some  extent  the  majesty  of  Him  whose  is  the  light 
and  the  darkness,  who  is  heard  in  the  thunder-peal  and 
seen  in  the  forked  lightning. 

"  Can  any  understand  the  spreadings  of  the  clouds, 
The  crashings  of  His  pavilion  ? 
Behold  He  spreadeth  His  light  about  Him; 
And  covereth  it  with  the  depths  of  the  sea. 
For  by  these  judgeth  He  the  peoples ; 
He  givctli  meat  in  abundance." 

Translating  from  the  Vulgate  the  two  following  verses, 
Mr.  Ruskin  gives  the  meaning,  "  He  hath  hidden  the 
light  in  His  hands  and  commanded  it  that  it  should 
return.  He  speaks  of  it  to  His  friend ;  that  it  is  His 
possession,  and  that  he  may  ascend  thereto."  The 
rendering  cannot  be  received,  yet  the  comment  may  be 
cited.  "  These  rain-clouds  are  the  robes  of  love  of 
the  Angel  of  the  Sea.     To  these  that  name  is  chiefly 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  373 


given,  the  '  spreadings  of  the  clouds/  from  their  extent, 
their  gentleness,  their  fulness  of  rain."  And  this  is 
"the  meaning  of  those  strange  golden  lights  and  purple 
flushes  before  the  morning  rain.  The  rain  is  sent  to 
judge  and  feed  us  ;  but  the  light  is  the  possession  of 
the  friends  of  God,  that  they  may  ascend  thereto, — 
where  the  tabernacle  veil  will  cross  and  part  its  rays 
no  more."  ^ 

The  real  import  does  not  reach  this  spiritual  height. 
It  is  simply  that  the  tremendous  thunder  brings  to 
transgressors  the  terror  of  judgment,  and  the  copious 
showers  that  follow  water  the  parched  earth  for  the 
sake  of  man.  Of  the  justice  and  grace  of  God  we  are 
made  aware  when  His  angel  spreads  his  wings  over  the 
world.  In  the  darkened  sky  there  is  a  crash  as  if  the 
vast  canopy  of  the  firmament  were  torn  asunder.  And 
now  a  keen  flash  lights  the  gloom  for  a  moment ;  anon 
it  is  swallowed  up  as  if  the  inverted  sea,  poured  in 
cataracts  upon  the  flame,  extinguished  it.  Men  recog- 
nise the  Divine  indignation,  and  even  the  lower  animals 
seem  to  be  aware. 

"  He  covcreth  His  hands  ivith  the  lightning, 
He  giveih  it  a  charge  against  the  adversary. 
Its  thunder  telleth  concerning  Him, 
Even  the  cattle  concerning  that  which  cometh  up.''' 

Continued  in  the  thirty-seventh  chapter,  the  descrip- 
tion appears  to  be  from  what  is  actually  going  on,  a 
tremendous  thunderstorm  that  shakes  the  earth.  The 
sound  comes,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  mouth  of  God, 
reverberating  from  sky  to  earth  and  from  earth  to  sky, 
and  rolling  away  under  the  whole  heaven.  Again  there 
are  lightnings,  and  '^  He  stayeth  them  not  when  His  voice 


Modern  Painters,"  vol.  v.,  141. 


374  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


is  heardy     Swift  ministers  of  judgment  and  death  they 
are  darted  upon  the  world. 

We  are  asked  to  consider  a  fresh  wonder,  that  of 
the  snow  which  at  certain  times  replaces  the  gentle  or 
copious  rain.  The  cold  fierce  showers  of  wi'nter  arrest 
the  labour  of  man,  and  even  the  wild  beasts  seek  their 
dens  and  abide  in  their  lurking-places.  "  The  Angel 
of  the  Sea,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin,  ''has  also  another  message, 
— in  the  '  great  rain  of  His  strength,'  rain  of  trial, 
sweeping  away  ill-set  foundations.  Then  his  robe  is 
not  spread  softly  over  the  whole  heaven  as  a  veil,  but 
sweeps  back  from  his  shoulders,  ponderous,  oblique, 
terrible — leaving  his  sword-arm  free."  God  is  still 
directly  at  work.  ''  Out  of  His  chamber  corneth  the 
storm  and  cold  out  of  the  north."  His  breath  gives  the 
frost  and  straitens  the  breadth  of  waters.  Towards 
Armenia,  perhaps,  the  poet  has  seen  the  rivers  and  lakes 
frozen  from  bank  to  bank.  Our  science  explains  the 
result  of  diminished  temperature  ;  we  know  under  what 
conditions  hoar-frost  is  deposited  and  how  hail  is 
formed.  Yet  all  we  can  say  is  that  thus  and  thus  the 
forces  act.  Beyond  that  we  remain  like  this  writer, 
awed  in  presence  of  a  heavenly  Will  which  determines 
the  course  and  appoints  the  marvels  of  nature. 

'^  By  the  breath  of  God  ice  is  given, 
Jind  the  breadth  of  the  waters  is  straitened. 
Also  He  ladeth  the  thick  cloud  with  moisture. 
He  spreadeth  His  lightning  cloud  abroad ; 
And  it  is  turned  about  by  His  guidance, 
That  it  niay  do  whatsoever  He  commandeth 
Upon  the  face  of  the  whole  earth'' 

Here,  again,  moral  purpose  is  found.  The  poet 
attributes  to  others  his  own  susceptibility.  Men  see 
and  learn  and  tremble.     It  is  for  correction,  that  the 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]      THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  375 

careless  may  be  brought  to  think  of  God's  greatness, 
and  the  evil-doers  of  His  power,  that  sinners  being 
made  afraid  may  turn  from  their  rebellion.  Or,  it  is 
for  His  earth,  that  rain  may  beautify  it  and  fill  the 
rivers  and  springs  at  which  the  beasts  of  the  valley 
drink.  Or,  yet  again,  the  purpose  is  mercy.  Even 
the  tremendous  thunderstorm  may  be  fraught  with 
mercy  to  men.  From  the  burning  heat,  oppressive, 
intolerable,  the  rains  that  follow  bring  deliverance. 
Men  are  fainting  for  thirst,  the  fields  are  languishing. 
In  compassion  God  sends  His  great  cloud  on  its  mission 
ofhfe. 

More  delicate,  needing  finer  observation,  are  the  next 
objects  of  study. 

"Dost  thou  know  how  God  layeth  His  charge  on  them, 
And  causeth  the  light  of  His  cloud  to  shine? 
Dost  thou  know  the  balancings  of  the  clouds, 
The  wondrous  works  of  Him  who  is  perfect  in  knowledge  ?  " 

It  is  not  clear  whether  the  light  of  the  cloud  means 
the  lightning  again  or  the  varied  hues  which  make  an 
Oriental  sunset  glorious  in  purple  and  gold.  But  the 
balancings  of  the  clouds  must  be  that  singular  power 
which  the  atmosphere  has  of  sustaining  vast  quantities 
of  watery  vapour — either  miles  above  the  earth's  surface 
where  the  filmy  cirrhus  floats,  dazzling  white  against 
the  blue  sky,  or  lower  down  where  the  rain-cloud  trails 
along  the  hill-tops.  Marvellous  it  is  that,  suspended 
thus  in  the  air,  immense  volumes  of  water  should  be 
carried  from  the  surface  of  the  ocean  to  be  discharged 
in  fructifying  rain. 
Then  again : — 

"How  are  thy  garments  warm 
When  the  earth  is  still  because  of  the  south  wind  ? " 

The  sensation  of  dry  hot  clothing  is  said  to  be  very 


376  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


notable  in  the  season  of  the  siroccos  or  south  winds, 
also  the  extraordinary  stillness  of  nature  under  the 
same  oppressive  influence.  "  There  is  no  living  thing 
abroad  to  make  a  noise.  The  air  is  too  weak  and 
languid  to  stir  the  pendant  leaves  even  of  the  tall 
poplars." 

Finally  the  vast  expanse  of  the  sky,  like  a  looking- 
glass  of  burnished  metal  stretched  far  over  sea  and 
land,  symbolises  the  immensity  of  Divine  power. 

"  Canst  thou  with  Him  spread  out  the  sky 
Which  is  strong  as  a  molten  mirror?  .  .  . 
And  now  men  see  not  the  light  which  is  bright  in  the  skies : 
Yet  the  wind  passeth  and  cleanseth  them." 

It  is  always  bright  beyond.  Clouds  only  hide  the 
splendid  sunshine  for  a  time.  A  wind  rises  and  sweeps 
away  the  vapours  from  the  glorious  dome  of  heaven. 
^^  Out  of  the  noHh  cometh  golden  splendour^'' — for  it  is 
the  north  wind  that  drives  on  the  clouds- which,  as  they 
fly  southward,  are  gilded  by  the  rays  of  the  sun.  But 
with  God  is  a  splendour  greater  far,  that  of  terrible 
majesty. 

So  the  ode  finishes  abruptly,  and  Elihu  states  his 
own  conclusion : — 

"  The  Almighty  !  we  cannot  find  Him  out;  He  is  excellent  in  power. 
And  in  judgment  and  plenteous  justice  ;  He  will  not  afflict. 
Men  do  therefore  fear  Him ; 
He  regardeth  not  any  that  are  wise  of  heart." 

Is  Job  wise  in  his  own  conceit  ?  Does  he  think  he  can 
challenge  the  Divine  government  and  show  how  the 
affairs  of  the  world  might  have  been  better  ordered  ? 
Does  he  think  that  he  is  himself  treated  unjustly  be- 
cause loss  and  disease  have  been  appointed  to  him  ? 
Right  thoughts  of  God  will  check  all  such  ignorant 
notions  and  bring  him  a   penitent  back  to  the  throne 


xxxv.-xxxvii.]     THE  DIVINE  PREROGATIVE.  377 


of  the  Eternal.  It  is  a  good  and  wise  deduction  ;  but 
Elihu  has  not  vindicated  God  by  showing  in  harmony 
with  the  noblest  and  finest  ideas  of  righteousness  men 
have,  God  supremely  righteous,  and  beyond  the  best 
and  noblest  mercy  men  love,  God  transcendently 
merciful  and  gracious.  In  effect  his  argument  has 
been — The  Almighty  must  be  all-righteous,  and  any 
one  is  impious  who  criticises  life.  The  whole  question 
between  Job  and  the  friends  remains  unsettled  still. 

Elihu's  failure  is  significant.  It  is  the  failure  of  an 
attempt  made,  as  we  have  seen,  centuries  after  the 
Book  of  Job  was  written,  to  bring  it  into  the  line  of 
current  religious  opinion.  Our  examination  of  the  whole 
reveals  the  narrow  foundation  on  which  Hebrew  ortho- 
doxy was  reared  and  explains  the  developments  of  a 
later  time.  Job  may  be  said  to  have  left  no  disciples 
in  Israel.  His  brave  personal  hope  and  passionate 
desire  for  union  with  God  seem  to  have  been  lost  in 
the  fervid  national  bigotry  of  post-exilic  ages ;  and 
while  they  faded,  the  Pharisee  and  Sadducee  of  after 
days  began  to  exist.  They  are  both  here  in  germ. 
Springing  from  one  seed,  they  are  alike  in  their  ignor- 
ance of  Divine  justice ;  and  we  do  not  wonder  that 
Christ,  coming  to  fulfil  and  more  than  fulfil  the  hope  of 
humanity,  appeared  to  both  the  Pharisee  and  Sadducee 
of  His  time  as  an  enemy  of  religion,  of  the  country,  and 
of  God. 


THE   VOICE    FROM    THE   STORM. 


179 


XXVI  I. 

''MUSIC  IN  THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAW." 
Chap,  xxxviii. 

OVER  the  shadowed  life  of  Job,  and  the  .world 
shadowed  for  him  by  his  own  intellectual  and 
moral  gloom,  a  storm  sweeps,  and  from  the  storm  issues 
a  voice.  With  the  symbol  of  vast  Divine  energy  comes 
an  answer  to  the  problem  of  tried  and  troubled  human 
life.  It  has  seemed,  as  time  went  by,  that  the  appeals 
of  the  sufferer  were  unheard,  that  the  rigid  silence  of 
heaven  would  never  break.  But  had  he  not  heard  ? 
"  Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  their 
words  to  the  end  of  the  world."  Job  should  have 
known.  What  is  given  will  be  a  fresh  presentation  of 
ideas  now  to  be  seen  in  their  strength  and  bearing 
because  the  mind  is  prepared  and  made  eager.  The 
man,  brought  to  the  edge  of  pessimism,  will  at  last  look 
abroad  and  follow  the  doings  of  the  Almighty  even 
through  storm  and  darkness.  Does  the  sublime  voice 
issue  only  to  overbear  and  reduce  him  to  silence  ?  Not 
so.  His  reason  is  addressed,  his  thought  demanded, 
his  power  to  recognise  truth  is  called  for.  A  great 
demonstration  is  made,  requiring  at  every  step  the 
response  of  mind  and  heart.  The  Creator  reveals  His 
care  for  the  creation,  for  the  race  of  men,  for  every 
kind  of  being  and  every  need.     He  declares  His  own 

3B1 


382  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


glory,  of  transcendent  power,  of  immeasurable  wisdom, 
also  of  righteous  and  holy  will.  He  can  afQict  men, 
and  yet  do  them  no  wrong  but  good,  for  they  are  His 
men,  for  whom  He  provides  as  they  cannot  provide  for 
themselves.  Trial,  sorrow,  change,  death — is  anything 
^'disastrous"  that  God  ordains?  Impossible.  His 
care  of  His  creation  is  beyond  our  imagining.  There 
are  no  disasters  in  His  universe  unless  where  the  will 
of  man  divorced  from  faith  would  tear  a  way  for  itself 
through  the  fastnesses  of  His  eternal  law. 

Eloah  is  known  through  the  tempest  as  well  as  in 
the  dewdrop  and  the  tender  blossom.  What  is  capable 
of  strength  must  be  made  strong.  That  is  the  Divine 
law  throughout  all  life,  for  the  cedar  on  Lebanon,  the 
ox  in  the  yoke,  the  lion  of  the  Libyan  desert.  Chiefly 
the  moral  nature  of  man  must  find  its  strength.  The 
glory  of  God  is  to  have  sons  who  can  endure.  The 
easy  piety  of  a  happy  race,  living  among  flowers  and 
offering  incense  for  adoration,  cannot  satisfy  Him  of 
the  eternal  will,  the  eternal  power.  Men  must  learn  to 
trust,  to  endure,  to  hold  themselves  undismayed  when 
the  fury  of  tempest  scours  their  world  and  heaps  the 
driven  snow  above  their  dwellings  and  death  comes 
cold  and  stark.  Struggle  man  shall,  struggle  on 
through  strange  and  dreadful  trials  till  he  learn  to  live 
in  the  thought  of  Divine  Will  and  Love,  co-ordinate  in 
one  Lord  true  to  Himself,  worthy  to  be  trusted  through 
all  cloud  and  clash.  Ever  is  He  pursuing  an  end  con- 
formable to  the  nature  of  the  beings  He  has  created, 
and,  with  man  an  end  conformable  to  his  nature,  the 
possibilities  of  endless  moral  development,  the  widening 
movements  of  increasing  life.  Let  man  know  this  and 
submit,  know  this  and  rejoice.  A  dream-life  shall  be 
impossible  to  man,  use  his  day  as  he  will. 


xxviii.]      ''MUSIC  IN    THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAWr  383 

Is  this  Divine  utterance  from  the  storm  required  by 
the  progress  of  the  drama  ?  Some  have  doubted 
whether  its  tenor  is  consistent  with  the  previous  line 
of  thought ;  yet  the  whole  movement  sets  distinctly 
towards  it,  could  terminate  in  no  other  way.  The 
prologue,  affirming  God's  satisfaction  with  His  servant, 
left  us  assured  that  if  Job  remained  pure  and  kept  his 
faith  his  name  would  not  be  blotted  from  the  book 
of  life.  He  has  kept  his  integrity;  no  falsehood  or 
baseness  can  be  charged  against  him.  But  is  he  still 
with  God  in  sincere  and  humble  faith  ?  We  have 
heard  him  accuse  the  Most  High  of  cruel  enmity.  At 
the  close  he  lies  under  the  suspicion  of  impious  daring 
and  revolt,  and  it  appears  that  he  may  have  fallen  from 
grace.  The  author  has  created  this  uncertainty  knowing 
well  that  the  verdict  of  God  Himself  is  needed  to  make 
clear  the  spiritual  position  and  fate  of  His  servant. 

Besides  this,  Job's  own  suspense  remains,  of  more 
importance  from  a  dramatic  point  of  view.  He  is  not 
yet  reconciled  to  providence.  Those  earnest  cries  for 
light,  which  have  gone  forth  passionately,  pathetically 
to  heaven,  wait  for  an  answer.  They  must  have  some 
reply,  if  the  poet  can  frame  a  fit  deliverance  for  the 
Almighty.  The  task  is  indeed  severe.  On  one  side 
there  is  restraint,  for  the  original  motive  of  the  whole 
action  and  especially  the  approval  of  Job  by  his  Divine 
Master  are  not  to  be  divulged.  The  tried  man  must 
not  enjoy  vindication  at  the  risk  of  losing  humility,  his 
victory  over  his  friends  must  not  be  too  decisive  for 
his  own  spiritual  good,  nor  out  of  keeping  with  the 
ordinary  current  of  experience.  On  the  other  side  lies 
the  difficulty  of  representing  Divine  wisdom  in  contrast 
to  that  of  man,  and  of  dealing  with  the  hopes  and 
claims   of  Job,  for   vindication,   for   deliverance   from 


3^4  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


Sheol,  for  the  help  of  a  Redeemer,  either  in  the  way 
of  approving  them  or  setting  them  definitely  aside. 
Urged  by  a  necessity  of  his  own  creating,  the  author 
has  to  seek  a  solution,  and  he  finds  one  equally  con- 
vincing and  modest,  crowning  his  poem  with  a  passage 
of  marvellous  brilliance,  aptness,  and  power. 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  the  limitations  of 
genius  and  inspiration  are  distinctly  visible  here.  The 
bold  prophetic  hopes  put  into  Job's  mouth  were  beyond 
the  author's  power  to  verify  even  to  his  own  satisfac- 
tion. He  might  himself  believe  in  them,  ardently,  as 
flashes  of  heavenly  foresight,  but  he  would  not  affirm 
them  to  be  Divine  in  their  source  because  he  could  not 
give  adequate  proof.  The  ideas  were  thrown  out  to 
live  in  human  thought,  to  find  verification  when  God's 
time  came.  Hence,  in  the  speeches  of  the  Almighty,  the 
ground  taken  is  that  of  natural  religion,  the  testimony 
of  the  wonderful  system  of  things  open  to  the  obser- 
vation of  all.  Is  there  a  Divine  Redeemer  for  the 
faithful  whose  lives  have  been  overshadowed  ?  Shall 
they  be  justified  in  some  future  state  of  being  when 
their  bodies  have  mouldered  into  dust  ?  The  voice 
from  on  high  does  not  affirm  that  this  shall  be;  the 
reverence  of  the  poet  does  not  allow  so  daring  an 
assumption  of  the  right  to  speak  for  God.  On  the 
contrary,  the  danger  of  meddling  with  things  too  high 
is  emphasised  in  the  very  utterance  which  a  man  of 
less  wisdom  and  humility  would  have  filled  with  his 
own  ideas.  Nowhere  is  there  a  finer  instance  of  self- 
denying  moderation  for  the  sake  of  absolute  truth. 
This  writer  stands  among  men  as  a  humble  student  of 
the  ways  of  God — is  content  to  stand  there  at  the  last, 
making  no  claim  beyond  the  knowledge  of  what  may 
be  learned  from  the  creation  and  providence  of  God. 


xxxviii.]      ''MUSIC  IN   THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAWr  385 

And  Job  is  allowed  no  special  providence.  The 
voice  from  the  storm  is  that  which  all  may  hear;  it  is 
the  universal  revelation  suited  to  every  man.  At  first 
sight  we  are  disposed  to  agree  with  those  who  think 
the  appearance  of  the  Almighty  upon  the  scene  to  be 
in  itself  strange.  But  there  is  no  Theophany.  There 
is  no  revelation  or  message  to  suit  a  particular  case, 
to  gratify  one  who  thinks  himself  more  important  than 
his  fellow-creatures,  or  imagines  the  problem  of  his 
life  abnormally  difficult.  Again  the  wisdom  of  the 
author  goes  hand  in  hand  with  his  modesty ;  what 
is  within  his  compass  he  sees  to  be  sufficient  for  his 
end. 

To  some  the  utterances  put  into  the  mouth  of  the 
Almighty  may  seem  to  come  far  short  of  the  occasion. 
Beginning  to  read  the  passage  they  may  say  : — Now 
we  are  to  have  the  fruit  of  the  poet's  most  strenuous 
thought,  the  highest  inspiration.  The  Almighty  when 
He  speaks  in  person  will  be  made  to  reveal  His 
gracious  purposes  with  men  and  the  wisdom  of  His 
government  in  those  cases  that  have  baffled  the  under- 
standing of  Job  and  of  all  previous  thinkers.  Now  we 
shall  see  a  new  light  penetrating  the  thick  darkness 
and  confusion  of  human  affairs.  Since  this  is  not  done 
there  may  be  disappointment.  But  the  author  is  con- 
cerned with  religion.  His  maxim  is,  "The  fear  of  God 
that  is  wisdom,  and  to  depart  from  evil  is  understand- 
ing." He  has  in  his  drama  done  much  for  human 
thought  and  theology.  The  complications  which  had 
kept  faith  from  resting  in  true  spirituality  on  God  have 
been  removed.  The  sufferer  is  a  just  man,  a  good  man 
whom  God  Himself  has  pronounced  to  be  perfect.  Job 
is  not  afflicted  because  he  has  sinned.  The  author  has 
set  in  the  clearest  possible  light  all  arguments  he  could 


386  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


find  for  the  old  notion  that  transgression  and  wicked- 
ness alone  are  followed  by  suffering  in  this  world.  He 
has  shown  that  this  doctrine  is  not  in  accordance  with 
fact,  and  has  made  the  proof  so  clear  that  a  thoughtful 
person  could  never  afterwards  remember  the  name  of 
Job  and  hold  that  false  view.  But  apart  from  the 
prologue,  no  explanation  is  given  of  the  sufferings  of 
the  righteous  in  this  life.  The  author  never  says  in 
so  many  words  that  Job  profited  by  his  afQictions.  It 
might  be  that  the  righteous  man,  tried  by  loss  and 
pain,  was  established  in  his  faith  for  ever,  above  all 
possibility  of  doubt.  But  this  is  not  affirmed.  It  might 
be  that  .men  were  purified  by  their  sufferings,  that  they 
found  through  the  hot  furnace  a  way  into  the  noblest 
life.  But  this  is  not  brought  forward  as  the  ultimate 
explanation.  Or  it  might  be  that  the  good  man  in 
afQiction  was  the  burden-bearer  of  others,  so  that  his 
travail  and  blood  helped  their  spiritual  life.  But  there 
is  no  hint  of  this.  Jehovah  is  to  be  vindicated.  He 
appears ;  He  speaks  out  of  the  storm,  and  vindicates 
Himself.  Not,  however,  by  showing  the  good  His 
servant  has  gained  in  the  discipline  of  bereavement, 
loss,  and  pain.  It  is  by  claiming  implicit  trust  from 
men,  by  showing  that  their  wisdom  at  its  highest  is 
foolishness  to  His,  and  that  His  administration  of  the 
affairs  of  His  world  is  in  glorious  faithfulness  as  well 
as  power. 

Is  it  disappointing?  Does  the  writer  neglect  the 
great  question  his  drama  has  stirred  ?  Or  has  he  not, 
with  art  far  more  subtle  than  we  may  at  first  suppose, 
introduced  into  the  experience  of  Job  a  certain  spiritual 
gain — thoughts  and  hopes  that  widen  and  clear  the 
horizon  of  his  life  ?  In  the  depth  of  despondency, 
just  because   he   has  been  driven  from  every  earthly 


xxxviii.]       ''MUSIC  IN   THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAlVr  387 

comfort  and  stay,  and  can  look  only  for  miserable 
death,  Job  sees  in  prophetic  vision  a  higher  hope.  He 
asks,  "  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ?  '•  The  ques- 
tion remains  with  him  and  seeks  an  answer  in  the 
intervals  of  suffering.  Then  at  length  he  ventures  on 
the  presage  of  a  future  state  of  existence,  ''  whether 
in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  he  cannot  tell,  God 
knoweth," — "  My  Redeemer  liveth  ;  I  shall  see  God 
for  me."  This  prevision,  this  dawning  of  the  light  of 
immortality  upon  his  soul  is  the  gain  that  has  entered 
into  Job's  experience.  Without  the  despondency,  the 
bitterness  of  bereavement,  the  sense  of  decay,  and  the 
pressure  of  cruel  charges  made  against  him,  these 
illuminating  thoughts  would  never  have  come  to  the 
suff'erer ;  and  along  this  line  the  author  may  have 
intended  to  justify  the  afflictions  of  the  righteous 
man  and  quietly  vindicate  the  dealings  of  God  with 
him. 

If  further  it  be  asked  why  this  is  not  made  prominent 
in  the  course  of  the  Almighty's  address  from  the  storm, 
an  answer  may  be  found.  The  hope  did  not  remain 
clear,  inspiring,  in  the  consciousness  of  Job.  The 
waves  of  sorrow  and  doubt  rolled  over  his  mind  again. 
It  was  but  a  flash,  and  like  lightning  at  midnight  it 
passed  and  left  the  gloom  once  more.  Only  when  by 
long  reflection  and  patient  thought  Job  found  himself 
reassured  in  the  expectation  of  a  future  life,  would  he 
know  what  trouble  had  done  for  him.  And  it  was  not 
in  keeping  with  the  gradual  development  of  religious 
faith  that  the  Almighty  should  forestall  discovery  by 
reviving  the  hope  which  for  a  time  had  faded.  We 
may  take  it  that  with  rare  skill  the  writer  avoids  in- 
sistence on  the  value  of  a  vision  which  could  appear 
charged  with  sustaining  hope  only  after  it  was  again 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


apprehended,  first  as  a  possibility,  then  as  a  revelation, 
finally  as  a  sublime  truth  disentangled  from  doubt  and 
error. 

Assuming  this  to  have  been  in  the  author's  mind,  we 
understand  why  the  Almighty  speaking  from  the  storm 
makes  no  reference  to  the  gain  of  affliction.  There  is 
a  return  upon  the  original  motive  of  the  drama, — the 
power  of  the  Creator  to  inspire,  the  right  of  the  Creator 
to  expect  faith  in  Himself,  whatever  losses  and  trials 
men  have  to  endure.  Neither  the  integrity  of  man  nor 
the  claim  of  man  upon  God  is  first  in  the  mind  of 
the  author,  but  the  majestic  Godhead  that  gathers 
to  itself  the  adoration  of  the  universe.  Man  is  of 
importance  because  he  glorifies  his  Creator.  Human 
righteousness  is  of  narrow  range.  It  is  not  by  his 
righteousness  man  is  saved,  that  is  to  say,  finds  his 
true  place,  the  development  of  his  nature  and  the  end 
of  his  existence.  He  is  redeemed  from  vanity  and 
evanescence  by  his  faith,  because  in  exercising  it, 
clinging  to  it  through  profoundest  darkness,  amidst 
thunder  and  storm,  when  deep  calleth  to  deep,  he 
enters  into  that  wise  and  holy  order  of  the  universe 
which  God  has  appointed, — he  lives  and  finds  more 
abundant  fife. 

It  is  not  denied  that  on  the  way  toward  perfect  trust 
in  his  Creator  man  is  free  to  seek  explanation  of  all 
that  befalls  him.  Our  philosophy  is  no  impertinence. 
Thought  must  have  liberty ;  religion  must  be  free. 
The  light  of  justice  has  been  kindled  within  us  that 
we  may  seek  the  answering  light  of  the  sublime  justice 
of  God  in  all  His  dealings  with  ourselves  and  with 
mankind.  This  is  clearly  before  the  mind  of  the  author, 
and  it  is  the  underlying  idea  throughout  the  long 
colloquies    between    Job    and    his    friends.      They   are 


xxxviii.]       ''MUSIC  IN   THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAlVr  3S9 


allowed  a  freedom  of  thought  and  speech  that  sometimes 
astonishes,  for  they  are  engaged  in  the  great  inquiry 
which  is  to  bring  clear  and  uplifting  knowledge  of  the 
Creator  and  His  will.  For  us  it  is  a  varied  inquiry,  much 
of  it  to  be  conducted  in  pain  and  sorrow,  on  the  bare 
hillside  or  on  the  rough  sea,  in  the  face  of  peril,  change 
and  disappointment.  But  if  always  the  morale  of  life, 
the  fulfilment  of  life  bestowed  by  God  as  man's  trust 
and  inestimable  possession  are  kept  in  view,  freedom 
is  ample,  and  man,  doing  his  part,  need  have  no  fear 
of  incurring  the  anger  of  the  Divine  Judge  :  the  terrors 
of  low  religions  have  no  place  here. 

But  now  Job  is  given  to  understand  that  liberty  has 
its  limitation ;  and  the  lesson  is  for  many.  To  one 
half  of  mankind,  allowing  the  mind  to  lie  inert  or 
expending  it  on  vanities,  the  word  has  come— Inquire 
what  life  is,  what  its  trials  mean,  how  the  righteous 
government  of  God  is  to  be  traced.  Now,  to  the  other 
half  of  mankind,  too  adventurous  in  experiment  and 
judgment,  the  address  of  the  Almighty  says  :  Be  not 
too  bold ;  far  beyond  your  range  the  activities  of  the 
Creator  pass  :  it  is  not  for  you  to  understand  the  whole, 
but  always  to  be  reverent,  always  to  trust.  The  limits 
of  knowledge  are  shown,  and,  beyond  them,  the  Divine 
King  stands  in  glory  inaccessible,  proved  true  and 
wise  and  just,  claiming  for  Himself  the  dutiful  obe- 
dience and  adoration  of  His  creatures.  Throughout 
the  passage  we  now  consider  this  is  the  strain  of 
argument,  and  the  effect  on  Job's  mind  is  found  in  his 
final  confession. 

Let  man  remember  that  his  main  business  here  is 
not  to  question  but  to  glorify  his  Creator.  For  the  time 
when  this  book  was  written  the  truth  lay  here ;  and 
here  it  lies  even  for  us,  and  will  lie  for  those  who  come 


390  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


after  us.  In  these  days  it  is  often  forgotten.  Science 
questions,  philosophy  probes  into  the  reasons  of  what 
has  been  and  is,  men  lose  themselves  in  labyrinths  at 
the  far  extremities  of  which  they  hope  to  find  something 
which  shall  make  life  inexpressibly  great  or  strong  or 
sweet.  And  even  theology  and  criticism  of  the  Bible 
occasionally  fall  into  the  same  error  of  fancying  that  to 
inquire  and  know  are  the  main  things,  that  although 
inquiry  and  knowledge  do  not  at  every  stage  aid  the 
service  of  the  Most  High  they  may  promote  life.  The 
colloquies  and  controversies  over.  Job  and  his  friends 
are  recalled  to  their  real  duty,  which  is  to  recognise 
the  eternal  majesty  and  grace  of  the  Unseen  God,  to 
trust  Him  and  do  His  will.  And  our  experiments  and 
questions  over  in  every  department  of  knowledge,  to 
this  we  ought  to  come.  Nay,  every  step  in  our  quest 
of  knowledge  should  be  taken  with  the  desire  to  find 
God  more  gloriously  wise  and  faithful,  that  our  obedience 
may  be  more  zealous,  our  worship  more  profound. 
There  are  only  two  states  of  thought  or  dominant 
methods  possible  when  we  enter  on  the  study  of  the 
facts  of  nature  and  providence  or  any  research  that 
allures  our  reason.  We  must  go  forward  either  in  the 
faith  of  God  or  with  the  desire  to  establish  ourselves  in 
knowledge,  comfort  and  life  apart  from  God.  If  the 
second  w^ay  is  chosen,  light  is  turned  into  darkness, 
all  discoveries  prove  mere  apples  of  Sodom,  and  the 
end  is  vanity.  But  on  the  other  line,  with  life  which 
is  good  to  have,  with  the  consciousness  of  ability  to 
think  and  will  and  act,  faith  should  begin,  faith  in  life 
and  the  Maker  of  life ;  and  if  every  study  is  pursued 
in  resolute  faith,  man  refusing  to  give  existence  itself 
the  lie,  the  mind  seeking  and  finding  new  and  larger 
reasons  for  trust  and  service  of  the  Creator,  the  way 


I       xxxviii.]       ''MUSIC  IN   THE  BOUNDS   OF  LAWr  391 

will  be  that  of  salvation.  The  faults  and  errors  of  one 
who  follows  this  way  will  not  enter  into  his  soul  to 
abide  there  and  darken  it.  They  will  be  confessed 
and  forgiven.  Such  is  the  philosophy  of  the  Book 
of  Job,  and  the  final  vindication  of  His  servant  by  the 
Almighty. 


f 


XXVIII. 

THE  RECONCILIATION. 
Chaps,  xxxviii.   i-xlii.  6. 

THE  main  argument  of  the  address  ascribed  to  the 
Almighty  is  contained  in  chaps,  xxxviii.  and  xxxix., 
and  in  the  opening  verses  of  chap.  xlii.  Job  makes  sub- 
mission and  owns  his  fault  in  doubting  the  faithful- 
ness of  Divine  providence.  The  intervening  passage 
containing  descriptions  of  the  great  animals  of  the  Nile 
is  scarcely  in  the  same  high  strain  of  poetic  art  or  on 
same  high  level  of  cogent  reasoning.  It  seems  rather 
of  a  hyperbolical  kind,  suggesting  failure  from  the  clear 
aim  and  inspiration  of  the  previous  portion. 

The  voice  proceeding  from  the  storm-cloud,  in  which 
the  Almighty  veils  Himself  and  yet  makes  His  presence 
and  majesty  felt,  begins  with  a  question  of  reproach 
and  a  demand  that  the  intellect  of  Job  shall  be  roused 
to  its  full  vigour  in  order  to  apprehend  the  ensuing 
argument.  The  closing  words  of  Job  had  shown 
misconception  of  his  position  before  God.  He  spoke  of 
presenting  a  claim  to  Eloah  and  setting  forth  his  integrity 
so  that  his  plea  would  be  unanswerable.  Circumstances 
had  brought  upon  him  a  stain  from  which  he  had  a  right 
to  be  cleared,  and,  implying  this,  he  challenged  the 
Divine  government  of  the  world  as  wanting  in  due 
exhibition  of  righteousness.     This  being  so,  Job's  rescue 

392 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.  6.]       THE   RECONCILIATION.  393 

from    doubt    must    begin    with    a    conviction  of  error. 
Therefore  the  Almighty  says  : — 

"  IVJio  is  //lis  darkening  counsel 
By  ivords  without  knotvledge? 
Gird  up  noiv  thy  loins  like  a  inmt ; 
For  I  ivill  demand  of  thee  and  ausivcr  thou  Mc^ 

The  aim  of  the  author  throughout  the  speech  from 
the  storm  is  to  provide  a  way  of  reconcihation  between 
man  in  affliction  and  perplexity  and  the  providence  of 
God  that  bewilders  and  threatens  to  crush  him.  To 
effect  this  something  more  than  a  demonstration  of  the 
infinite  power  and  wisdom  of  God  is  needed.  Zophar 
affirming  the  glory  of  the  Almighty  to  be  higher  than 
heaven,  deeper  than  Sheol,  longer  than  the  earth, 
broader  than  the  sea,  basing  on  this  a  claim  that  God 
is  unchangeably  just,  supplies  no  principle  of  reconciha- 
tion. In  like  manner  Bildad,  requiring  the  abasement 
of  man  as  sinful  and  despicable  in  presence  of  the  Most 
High  with  whom  are  dominion  and  fear,  shows  no  way 
of  hope  and  life.  But  the  series  of  questions  now 
addressed  to  Job  forms  an  argument  in  a  higher  strain, 
as  cogent  as  could  be  reared  on  the  basis  of  that  mani- 
festation of  God  which  the  natural  world  supplies.  The 
man  is  called  to  recognise  not  illimitable  power  only, 
the  eternal  supremacy  of  the  Unseen  King,  but  also 
other  qualities  of  the  Divine  rule.  Doubt  of  providence 
is  rebuked  by  a  wide  induction  from  the  phenomena 
of  the  heavens  and  of  life  upon  the  earth,  everywhere 
disclosing  law  and  care  co-operant  to  an  end. 

First  Job  is  asked  to  think  of  the  creation  of  the 
world  or  visible  universe.  It  is  a  building  firmly  set 
on  deep-laid  foundations.  As  if  by  line  and  measure 
it  was  brought  into  symmetrical  form  according  to  the 
acrhetypal  plan  ;  and  when  the  corner-stone  was  laid 


394  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

as  of  a  new  palace  in  the  great  dominion  of  God  there 
was  joy  in  heaven.  The  angels  of  the  morning  broke 
into  song,  the  sons  of  the  Elohim,  high  in  the  ethereal 
dwellings  among  the  fountains  of  light  and  life,  shouted 
for  joy.  In  poetic  vision  the  writer  beholds  that  work 
of  God  and  those  rejoicing  companies ;  but  to  himself, 
as  to  Job,  the  question  comes — What  knows  man  of  the 
marvellous  creative  effort  which  he  sees  in  imagination  ? 
It  is  beyond  human  range.  The  plan  and  the  method 
are  equally  incomprehensible.  Of  this  let  Job  be 
assured — that  the  work  was  not  done  in  vain.  Not 
for  the  creation  of  a  world  the  history  of  which  was  to 
pass  into  confusion  would  the  morning  stars  have  sung 
together.  He  who  beheld  all  that  He  had  made  and 
declared  it  very  good  would  not  suffer  triumphant  evil 
to  confound  the  promise  and  purpose  of  His  toil. 

Next  there  is  the  great  ocean  flood,  once  confined  as 
in  the  womb  of  primaeval  chaos,  which  came  forth  in 
living  power,  a  giant  from  its  birth.  What  can  Job 
tell,  what  can  any  man  tell  of  that  wonderful  evolution, 
when,  swathed  in  rolling  clouds  and  thick  darkness, 
with  vast  energy  the  flood  of  waters  rushed  tumultuously 
to  its  appointed  place  ?  There  is  a  law  of  use  and 
power  for  the  ocean,  a  Hmit  also  beyond  which  it  can- 
not pass.  Does  man  know  how  that  is  ? — must  he  not 
acknowledge  the  wise  will  and  benignant  care  of  Him 
who  holds  in  check  the  stormy  devastating  sea  ? 

And  who  has  control  of  the  light  ?  The  morning 
dawns  not  by  the  will  of  man.  It  takes  hold  of  the 
margin  of  the  earth  over  which  the  wicked  have  been 
ranging,  and  as  one  shakes  out  the  dust  from  a  sheet, 
it  shakes  them  forth  visible  and  ashamed.  Under  it 
the  earth  is  changed,  every  object  made  clear  and  sharp 
as  figures  on  clay  stamped  with  a  seal.     The  forests. 


xxxviii.  i-xHi.  6.]       THE   RECONCILIATION.  395 

fields,  and  rivers  are  seen  like  the  embroidered  or 
woven  designs  of  a  garment.  What  is  this  light  ? 
Who  sends  it  on  the  mission  of  moral  discipline  ?  Is 
not  the  great  God  who  commands  the  dayspring  to  be 
trusted  even  in  the  darkness  ?  Beneath  the  surface 
of  earth  is  the  grave  and  the  dwelling-place  of  the 
nether  gloom.  Does  Job  know,  does  any  man  know, 
what  lies  beyond  the  gates  of  death  ?  Can  any  tell 
where  the  darkness  has  its  central  seat  ?  One  there 
is  whose  is  the  night  as  well  as  the  morning.  The 
mysteries  of  futurity,  the  arcana  of  nature  lie  open  to 
the  Eternal  alone. 

Atmospheric  phenomena,  already  often  described, 
reveal  variously  the  unsearchable  wisdom  and  thought- 
ful rule  of  the  Most  High.  The  force  that  resides  in 
the  hail,  the  rains  that  fall  on  the  wilderness  where  no 
man  is,  satisfying  the  waste  and  desolate  ground  and 
causing  the  tender  grass  to  spring  up,  these  imply  a 
breadth  of  gracious  purpose  that  extends  beyond  the 
range  of  human  life.  Whose  is  the  fatherhood  of  the 
rain,  the  ice,  the  hoar-frost  of  heaven  ?  Man  is  subject 
to  the  changes  these  represent ;  he  cannot  control  them. 
And  far  higher  are  the  gleaming  constellations  that  are 
set  in  the  forehead  of  night.  Have  the  hands  of  man 
gathered  the  Pleiades  and  strung  them  Hke  burning 
gems  on  a  chain  of  fire  ?  Can  the  power  of  man 
unloose  Orion  and  let  the  stars  of  that  magnificent 
constellation  wander  through  the  sky?  The  Mazzaroth 
or  Zodiacal  signs  that  mark  the  watches  of  the  advanc- 
ing year,  the  Bear  and  the  stars  of  her  train — who  leads 
them  forth  ?  The  laws  of  heaven,  too,  those  ordinances 
regulating  the  changes  of  temperature  and  the  seasons, 
does  man  appoint  them  ?  Is  it  he  who  brings  the  time 
when    thunderstorms  break  up  the  drought  and  open 


39^  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


the  bottles  of  heaven,  or  the  time  of  heat  "when  th< 
dust  gathers  into  a  mass,  and  the  clods  cleave  fis 
together"?  Without  this  alternation  of  drougl  Z 
mcsture  recurring  by  law  from  year  to  yL  the 
labour  of  man  would  be  in  vain,  'is  not  He  who 
governs  the  changing  seasons  to  be  trusted  by  the  race 
that  profits  most  of  His  care  ? 

nafureToTh.?  •'"""'°"    "    """"^'^    ''''^   '"-™^te 
na  ure  to  the  hv.ng  creatures  for  which  God  provides. 

i^ed  anH      'T'"  ''"'  "^^^'^'"^  P^'"'^d  in  their 

eed  and  strength,  .„   the  urgency  of  their  instincts, 

timid  or  tameless  or  cruel.     The  Creator  is  seen  reioid 

ng  in    hem  as  His  handiwork,  and  man  is  held  bound 

Its  fulfilment  a  guarantee  of  all  that  his  own  bodily 
na  u,e  and  spiritual  being  may  require.  Notable  espe- 
cially to  us  IS  the  close  relation  between  this  portL 
and  certain  sayings  of  our  Lord  in  which  the  same 
argument    brings    the   same   conclusion.     "  Two   pas! 

the  Old    and  one   in  the   New  Testament,  possess    it 
seems  to  me,  a  different  character  from  any  of  the  r^s 

change  in  the  mind  of  a  man  whose  piety  was  in  other 
respects  perfect;  and  the  other  as  the  first  st  tern" 
to  an  inen  of  the  principles  of  Christianity  by  Chris 

ofTora7d  th"^  ""^  ''''  '°  4'^'  ^''^P'^^^'^  '^^  Book 
of  Job  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.     Now  the  first 

of  these  passages  is  from  beginning  to  end  nothing  else 

han  a  direction  of  the  mind  which  was  to  be  perfected 

An   "the  otb"^""  °'  "'^  "°^^^  °^  ^^'^  '"  -'"5 
And  the  other  consists  only  in  the  inculcation  of  three 

hfe,  3rd,  trusting  God    through  watchfulness   of  His 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.  6.]       THE  RECONCILIATION.  397 

dealings  with  His  creation."*  The  last  point  is  that 
which  brings  into  closest  parallelism  the  doctrine  of 
Christ  and  that  of  the  author  of  Job,  and  the  resem- 
blance is  not  accidental,  but  of  such  a  nature  as  to  show 
that  both  saw  the  underlying  truth  in  the  same  way 
from  the  same  point  of  spiritual  and  human  interest. 

'•  Wilt  thou  limit  the  prey  for  the  lioness  ? 
Or  satisfy  the  appetite  of  the  young  lions, 
When  they  couch  in  their  dens 
And  abide  in  the  covert  to  lie  in  wait  ? 
Who  provideth  for  the   raven  his  food, 
When  his  young  ones  cty  tinto  God 
And  wander  for  lack  of  jneat?'' 

Thus  man  is  called  to  recognise  the  care  of  God  for 
creatures  strong  and  weak,  and  to  assure  himself  that 
his  life  will  not  be  forgotten.  And  in  His  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  our  Lord  says,  "Behold  the  birds  of  the 
heaven,  that  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap  nor 
gather  into  barns  ;  and  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth 
them.  Are  not  ye  of  much  more  value  than  they  ?  " 
The  parallel  passage  in  the  Gospel  of  Luke  approaches 
still  more  closely  the  language  in  Job — "  Consider  the 
ravens  that  they  sow  not  neither  reap." 

The  wild  goats  or  goats  of  the  rock  and  their  young 
that  soon  become  independent  of  the  mothers'  care;  the 
wild  asses  that  make  their  dwelling-place  in  the  salt 
land  and  scorn  the  tumult  of  the  city ;  the  wild  ox  that 
cannot  be  tamed  to  go  in  the  furrow  or  bring  home  the 
sheaves  in  harvest ;  the  ostrich  that  "  leaveth  her  eggs 
on  the  earth  and  warmeth  them  in  the  dust " ;  the 
horse  in  his  might,  his  neck  clothed  with  the  quivering 
mane,  mocking  at  fear,  smelling  the  battle  afar  off;  the 
hawk  that  soars  into  the  blue  sky ;  the  eagle  that  makes 

*  "Modern  Painters,"  vol.  iii..  p.  307. 


398  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


her  nest  on  the  rock, — all  these,  graphically  described, 
speak  to  Job  of  the  inn.umerable  forms  of  life,  simple, 
daring,  strong  and  savage,  that  are  sustained  by  the 
power  of  the  Creator.  To  think  of  them  is  to  learn 
that,  as  one  among  the  dependants  of  God,  man  has 
his  part  in  the  system  of  things,  his  assurance  that  the 
needs  God  has  ordained  will  be  met.  The  passage  is 
poetically  among  the  finest  in  Hebrew  literature,  and  it 
is  more.  In  its  place,  with  the  limit  the  writer  has  set 
for  himself,  it  is  most  apt  as  a  basis  of  reconciliation 
and  a  new  starting-point  in  thought  for  all  like  Job 
who  doubt  the  Divine  faithfulness.  Why  should  man, 
because  he  can  think  of  the  providence  of  God,  be 
alone  suspicious  of  the  justice  and  wisdom  on  which  all 
creatures  rely  ?  Is  not  his  power  of  thought  given  to 
him  that  he  may  pass  beyond  the  animals  and  praise 
the  Divine  Provider  on  their  behalf  and  his  own  ? 
Man  needs  more  than  the  raven,  the  lion,  the  mountain 
goat,  and  the  eagle.  He  has  higher  instincts  and 
cravings.  Daily  food  for  the  body  will  not  suffice  him, 
nor  the  liberty  of  the  v;ilderness.  He  would  not  be 
satisfied  if,  like  the  hawk  and  eagle,  he  could  soar 
above  the  hills.  His  desires  for  righteousness,  for 
truth,  for  fulness  of  that  spiritual  life  by  which  he  is 
allied  to  God  Himself,  are  his  distinction.  So,  then,  He 
who  has  created  the  soul  will  bring  it  to  perfectness. 
Where  or  how  its  longings  shall  be  fulfilled  may  not 
be  for  man  to  know.  But  he  can  trust  God.  That  is 
his  privilege  when  knowledge  fails.  Let  him  lay  aside 
all  vain  thoughts  and  ignorant  doubts.  Let  him  say  : 
God  is  inconceivably  great,  unsearchably  wise,  infinitely 
just  and  true ;  I  am  in  His  hands,  and  all  is  well. 

The  reasoning  is  from  the  less  to  the  greater,  and  is 
therefore  in  this  case  conclusive.     The  lower  animals 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.  6.]       THE  RECONCILIATION,  399 

exercise  their  instincts  and  find  what  is  suited  to  their 
needs.  And  shall  it  not  be  so  with  man  ?  Shall  he, 
able  to  discern  the  signs  of  an  all-embracing  plan,  not 
confess  and  trust  the  sublime  justice  it  reveals  ?  The 
slightness  of  human  power  is  certainly  contrasted  with 
the  omnipotence  of  God,  and  the  ignorance  of  man 
with  the  omniscience  of  God  ;  but  always  the  Divine 
faithfulness,  glowing  behind,  shines  through  the  veil  of 
nature,  and  it  is  this  Job  is  called  to  recognise.  Has 
he  almost  doubted  everything,  because  from  his  own 
Hfe  outward  to  the  verge  of  human  existence  wrong 
and  falsehood  seemed  to  reign  ?  But  how,  then,  could 
the  countless  creatures  depend  upon  God  for  the  satis- 
faction of  their  desires  and  the  fulfilment  of  their  varied 
life  ?  Order  in  nature  means  order  in  the  scheme  of 
the  world  as  it  affects  humanity.  And  order  in  the 
providence  which  controls  human  affairs  must  have  for 
its  first  principle  fairness,  justice,  so  that  every  deed 
shall  have  due  reward. 

Such  is  the  Divine  law  perceived  by  our  inspired 
author  "through  the  things  that  are  made."  The. view 
of  nature  is  still  different  from  the  scientific,  but  there 
is  certainly  an  approach  to  that  reading  of  the  universe 
praised  by  M.  Renan  as  peculiarly  Hellenic,  which 
"  saw  the  Divine  in  what  is  harmonious  and  evident." 
Not  here  at  least  does  the  taunt  apply  that,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  Hebrew,  "ignorance  is  a  cult  and 
curiosity  a  wicked  attempt  to  explain,"  that  "even  in 
the  presence  of  a  mystery  which  assails  and  ruins  him, 
man  attributes  in  a  special  manner  the  character  of 
grandeur  to  that  which  is  inexplicable,"  that  "  all  phe- 
nomena whose  cause  is  hidden,  all  beings  whose  end 
cannot  be  perceived,  are  to  man  a  humiliation  and  a 
motive  for  glorifying    God."     The   philosophy   of  the 


400  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

final  portion  of  Job  is  of  that  kind  which  presses  beyond 
secondary  causes  and  finds  the  real  ground  of  creaturely 
existence.  Intellectual  apprehension  of  the  innumerable 
and  far-reaching  threads  of  Divine  purpose  and  the 
secrets  of  the  Divine  will  is  not  attempted.  But  the 
moral  nature  of  man  is  brought  into  touch  wath  the 
glorious  righteousness  of  God.  Thus  the  reconciliation 
is  revealed  for  which  the  whole  poem  has  made  pre- 
paration. Job  has  passed  through  the  furnace  of  trial 
and  the  deep  waters  of  doubt,  and  at  last  the  way  is 
opened  for  him  into  a  wealthy  place.  Till  the  Son  of 
God  Himself  come  to  clear  the  mystery  of  suffering 
no  larger  reconciliation  is  possible.  Accepting  the 
inevitable  boundaries  of  knowledge,  the  mind  may  at 
length  have  peace. 

And  Job  finds  the  way  of  reconciliation. 

"/  know  that  Thou  canst  do  all  things, 
And  that  no  purpose  of  Thme  can  be  restrained. 
'  Who  is  this  that  hideih  counsel  without  knowledge  ? ' 
Then  have  I  uttered  what  I  understood  not, 
Things  too  wonderfid  for  mc,  which  I  kneiv  not. 
^  Hear,  now,  and  I  will  speak ; 

I  will  demand  of  Thee,  and  declare  Thou  unto  me.'' 
I  had  heard  of  Thee  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear ; 
But  now  mine  eye  seeth  Thee, 

Wherefore  I  repudiate  m,y  words  and  repent  in  dust 
and  ashes." 

All  things  God  can  do,  and  where  His  purposes  are 
declared  there  is  the  pledge  of  their  accomplishment. 
Does  man  exist  ? — it  must  be  for  some  end  that  will 
come  about.  Has  God  planted  in  the  human  mind 
spiritual  desires  ? — they  shall  be  satisfied.  Job  returns 
on  the  question  that  accused  him — '^Who  is  this 
darkening  counsel  ?  "  It  was  he  himself  who  obscured 
counsel    by  ignorant  words.     He  had   only   heard   of 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.  6.]       THE  RECONCILIATION.  401 


God  then,  and  walked  in  the  vain  belief  of  a  traditional 
religion.  His  efforts  to  do  duty  and  to  avert  the  Divine 
anger  by  sacrifice  had  alike  sprung  from  the  imperfect 
knowledge  of  a  dream-life  that  never  reached  beyond 
w^ords  to  facts  and  things.  God  was  greater  far  than 
he  had  ever  thought,  nearer  than  he  had  ever  conceived. 
His  mind  is  filled  with  a  sense  of  the  Eternal  power, 
and  overwhelmed  by  proofs  of  wisdom  to  which  the 
little  problems  of  man's  life  can  offer  no  difficulty. 

"  Now  mine  eye  seeth  Thee."  The  vision  of  God  is 
to  his  soul  like  the  dazzling  light  of  day  to  one  issuing 
from  a  cavern.  He  is  in  a  new  world  where  every 
creature  lives  and  moves  in  God.  He  is  under  a  govern- 
ment that  appears  new  because  now  the  grand  compre- 
hensiveness and  minute  care  of  Divine  providence  are 
realised.  Doubt  of  God  and  difficulty  in  acknowledging 
the  justice  of  God  are  swept  away  by  the  magnificent 
demonstration  of  vigour,  spirit  and  sympathy,  which 
Job  had  as  3^et  failed  to  connect  with  the  Divine 
Life.  Faith  therefore  finds  freedom,  and  its  liberty  is 
reconciliation,  redemption.  He  cannot  indeed  behold 
God  face  to  face  and  hear  the  judgment  of  acquittal  for 
which  he  had  longed  and  cried.  Of  this,  however, 
he  does  not  now  feel  the  need.  Rescued  from  the 
uncertainty  in  which  he  had  been  involved — all  that 
was  beautiful  and  good  appearing  to  quiver  like  a 
mirage — he  feels  life  again  to  have  its  place  and  use 
in  the  Divine  order.  It  is  the  fulfilment  of  Job's  great 
hope,  so  far  as  it  can  be  fulfilled  in  this  world.  The 
question  of  his  integrity  is  not  formally  decided.  But 
a  larger  question  is  answered,  and  the  answer  satisfies 
meantime  the  personal  desire. 

Job  makes  no  confession  of  sin.  His  friends  and 
Elihu,  all  of  whom  endeavour  to  find  evil  in  his  life, 

26 


402  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


are  entirely  at  fault.  The  repentance  is  not  from 
moral  guilt,  but  from  the  hasty  and  venturous  speech 
that  escaped  him  in  the  time  of  trial.  After  all  one's 
defence  of  Job  one  must  allow  that  he  does  not  at 
every  point  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil.  There  was 
need  that  he  should  repent  and  find  new  life  in  new 
humility.  The  discovery  he  has  made  does  not  degrade 
a  man.  Job  sees  God  as  great  and  true  and  faithful 
as  he  had  believed  Him  to  be,  yea,  greater  and  more 
faithful  by  far.  He  sees  himself  a  creature  of  this 
great  God  and  is  exalted,  an  ignorant  creature  and  is 
reproved.  The  larger  horizon  which  he  demanded 
having  opened  to  him,  he  finds  himself  much  less  than 
he  had  seemed.  In  the  microcosm  of  his  past  dream- 
life  and  narrow  religion  he  appeared  great,  perfect, 
worthy  of  all  he  enjoyed  at  the  hand  of  God  ;  but  now, 
in  the  macrocosm,  he  is  small,  unwise,  weak.  God  and 
the  soul  stand  sure  as  before ;  but  God's  justice  to  the 
soul  He  has  made  is  view^ed  along  a  different  line. 
Not  as  a  mighty  sheik  can  Job  now  debate  with  the 
Almighty  he  has  invoked.  The  vast  ranges  of  being 
are  unfolded,  and  among  the  subjects  of  the  Creator 
he  is  one, — bound  to  praise  the  Almighty  for  existence 
and  all  it  means.  His  new  birth  is  finding  himself 
little,  yet  cared  for  in  God's  great  universe. 

The  writer  is  no  doubt  struggling  with  an  idea  he 
cannot  fully  express  ;  and  in  fact  he  gives  no  more 
than  the  pictorial  outline  of  it.  But  without  attributing 
sin  to  Job  he  points,  in  the  confession  of  ignorance, 
to  the  germ  of  a  doctrine  of  sin.  Man,  even  when 
upright,  must  be  stung  to  dissatisfaction,  to  a  sense 
of  imperfection — to  realise  his  fall  as  a  new  birth  in 
spiritual  evolution.  The  moral  ideal  is  indicated,  the 
boundlessness  of  duty  and  the  need  for  an  awakening 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.6.]       THE  RECONCILIATION.  403 

of  man  to  his  place  in  the  universe.  The  dream-life 
now  appears  a  clouded  partial  existence,  a  period  of 
lost  opportunities  and  barren  vain-glory.  Now  opens 
the  greater  hfe  in  the  light  of  God. 

And  at  the  last  the  challenge  of  the  Almighty  to 
Satan  with  which  the  poem  began  stands  justified. 
The  Adversary  cannot  say, — The  hedge  set  around 
Thy  servant  broken  down,  his  flesh  afflicted,  now  he 
has  cursed  Thee  to, Thy  face.  Out  of  the  trial  Job 
comes,  still  on  God's  side,  more  on  God's  side  than 
ever,  with  a  nobler  faith  more  strongly  founded  on  the 
rock  of  truth.  It  is,  we  may  say,  a  prophetic  parable 
of  the  great  test  to  which  religion  is  exposed  in  the 
world,  its  difficulties  and  dangers  and  final  triumph. 
To  confine  the  reference  to  Israel  is  to  miss  the  grand 
scope  of  the  poem.  At  the  last,  as  at  the  first,  we 
are  beyond  Israel,  out  in  a  universal  problem  of  man's 
nature  and  experience.  By  his  wonderful  gift  of  in- 
spiration, painting  the  sufferings  and  the  victory  of 
Job,  the  author  is  a  herald  of  the  great  advent.  He  is 
one  of  those  who  prepared  the  way  not  for  a  Jewish 
Messiah,  the  redeemer  of  a  small  people,  but  for  the 
Christ  of  God,  the  Son  of  Man,  the  Saviour  of  the 
world. 

A  universal  problem,  that  is,  a  question  of  every 
human  age,  has  been  presented  and  within  limits 
brought  to  a  solution.  But  it  is  not  the  supreme 
question  of  man's  hfe.  Beneath  the  doubts  and  fears 
with  which  this  drama  has  dealt  lie  darker  and  more 
stormy  elements.  The  vast  controversy  in  which  every 
human  soul  has  a  share  oversweeps  the  land  of  Uz 
and  the  trial  of  Job.  From  his  life  the  conscience  of 
sin  is  excluded.  The  author  exhibits  a  soul  tried  by 
outward   circumstances;    he   does  not  make  his  hero 


404  THE  BOOK  OF  JOB. 


share  the  thoughts  or  judgment  of  the  evil-doer.  Job 
represents  the  behever  in  the  furnace  of  providential 
pain  and  loss.  He  is  neither  a  sinner  nor  a  sin-bearer. 
Yet  the  book  leads  on  with  no  faltering  movement 
toward  the  great  drama  in  which  every  problem  of 
religion  centres.  Christ's  life,  character,  work  cover 
the  whole  region  of  spiritual  faith  and  struggle,  of 
conflict  and  reconciliation,  of  temptation  and  victory, 
sin  and  salvation  ;  and  while  the  problem  is  exhaustively 
wrought  out  the  Reconciler  stands  divinely  free  of  all 
entanglement.  He  is  light,  and  in  Him  is  no  darkness 
at  all.  Job's  honest  life  emerges  at  last,  from  a  narrow 
range  of  trial  into  personal  reconciliation  and  redemption 
through  the  grace  of  God.  Christ's  pure  heavenly  life 
goes  forward  in  the  Spirit  through  the  full  range  of 
spiritual  trial,  bearing  every  need  of  erring  man,  con- 
firming ever}^  wistful  hope  of  the  race,  yet  revealing 
with  startling  force  man's  immemorial  quarrel  with  the 
light,  and  convicting  him  in  the  hour  that  it  saves  him. 
Thus  for  the  ancient  inspired  drama  there  is  set,  in 
the  course  of  evolution,  another,  far  surpassing  it,  the 
Divine  tragedy  of  the  universe,  involving  the  spiritual 
omnipotence  of  God.  Christ  has  to  overcome  not  only 
doubt  and  fear,  but  the  devastating  godlessness  of  man, 
the  strange  sad  enmity  of  the  carnal  mind.  His  triumph 
in  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross  leads  religion  forth  beyond 
all  difficulties  and  dangers  into  eternal  purity  and  calm. 
That  is — through  Him  the  soul  of  believing  man  is 
reconciled  by  a  transcendent  spiritual  law  to  nature 
and  providence,  and  his  spirit  consecrated  for  ever  to 
the  holiness  of  the  Eternal. 

The  doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  God,  as  set  forth 
in  the  drama  of  Job  with  freshness  and  power  by  one 
of  the  masters  of  theology,  by  no   means  covers  the 


xxxviii.  i-xlii.6.]       THE  RECONCILIATION.  405 

whole  ground  of  Divine  action.  The  righteous  man  is 
called  and  enabled  to  trust  the  righteousness  of  God ; 
the  good  man  is  brought  to  confide  in  that  Divine 
goodness  which  is  the  source  of  his  own.  But  the 
evil-doer  remains  unconstrained  by  grace,  unmoved  by 
sacrifice.  We  have  learned  a  broader  theology,  a  more 
strenuous  yet  a  more  gracious  doctrine  of  the  Divine 
sovereignty.  The  induction  by  which  we  arrive  at  the 
law  is  wider  than  nature,  wider  than  the  providence 
that  reveals  infinite  wisdom,  universal  equity  and  care. 
Rightly  did  a  great  Puritan  theologian  take  his  stand 
on  the  conviction  of  God  as  the  one  power  in  heaven 
and  earth  and  hell ;  rightly  did  he  hold  to  the  idea  of 
Divine  will  as  the  one  sustaining  energy  of  all  energies. 
But  he  failed  just  where  the  author  of  Job  failed  long 
before  :  he  did  not  fully  see  the  correlative  principle 
of  sovereign  grace.  The  revelation  of  God  in  Christ, 
our  Sacrifice  and  Redeemer,  vindicates  with  respect  to 
the  sinful  as  well  as  the  obedient  the  Divine  act  of 
creation.  It  shows  the  Maker  assuming  responsibility 
for  the  fallen,  seeking  and  saving  the  lost ;  it  shows 
one  magnificent  sweep  of  evolution  which  starts  from 
the  manifestation  of  God  in  creation  and  returns 
through  Christ  to  the  Father,  laden  with  the  manifold 
immortal  gains  of  creative  and  redeeming  power. 


EPILOGLIK. 


407 


XXIX. 

EPILOGUE. 
Chap.  xlii.  7-17, 

AFTER  the  argument  of  the  Divine  voice  from  the 
storm  the  epilogue  is  a  surprise,  and  many  have 
doubted  whether  it  is  in  Hne  with  the  rest  of  the  work. 
Did  Job  need  these  multitudes  of  camels  and  sheep  to 
supplement  his  new  faith  and  his  reconciliation  to  the 
Almighty  will  ?  Is  there  not  something  incongruous 
in  the  large  award  of  temporal  good,  and  even  some- 
thing unnecessary  in  the  renewed  honour  among  men  ? 
To  us  it  seems  that  a  good  man  will  be  satisfied  with 
the  favour  and  fellow^ship  of  a  loving  God.  Yet,  assum- 
ing that  the  conclusion  is  a  part  of  the  history  on 
which  the  poem  was  founded,  we  can  justify  the  blaze 
of  splendour  that  bursts  on  Job  after  sorrow,  instruction 
and  reconciliation. 

Life  only  can  reward  life.  That  great  principle 
was  rudely  shadowed  forth  in  the  old  belief  that  God 
protects  His  servants  even  to  a  green  old  age.  The 
poet  of  our  book  clearly  apprehended  the  principle  ;  it 
inspired  his  noblest  flights.  Up  to  the  closing  moment 
Job  has  lived  strongly,  alike  in  the  mundane  and  the 
moral  region.  How  is  he  to  find  continued  life  ?  The 
author's  power  could  not  pass  the  limits  of  the  natural 
in  order  to  promise  a  reward.      Not  yet  was  it  possible, 

409 


4IO  THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 

even  for  a  great  thinker,  to  affirm  that  continued 
fellowship  with  Eloah,  that  continued  intellectual  and 
spiritual  energy  which  we  name  eternal  life.  A  vision 
of  it  had  come  to  him ;  he  had  seen  the  day  of  the 
Lord  afar  off,  but  dimly,  by  moments.  To  carry  a  life 
into  it  was  beyond  his  power.  Sheol  made  nothing 
perfect ;  and  beyond  Sheol  no  prophet  eye  had  ever 
travelled. 

There  was  nothing  for  it,  then,  but  to  use  the  history 
as  it  stood,  adding  symbolic  touches,  and  show  the 
restored  life  in  development  on  earth,  more  powerful 
than  ever,  more  esteemed,  more  richly  endowed  for 
good  action.  In  one  point  the  symbolism  is  very 
significant.  Priestly  office  and  power  are  given  to 
Job  ;  his  sacrifice  and  intercession  mediate  between  the 
friends  who  traduced  him  and  Eloah  who  hears  His 
faithful  servant's  prayer.  The  epilogue,  as  a  parable  of 
the  reward  of  faithfulness,  has  deep  and  abiding  truth. 
Wider  opportunity  of  service,  more  cordial  esteem  and 
affection,  the  highest  office  that  man  can  bear,  these 
are  the  reward  of  Job ;  and  with  the  terms  of  the 
symbolism  we  shall  not  quarrel  who  have  heard  the 
Lord  say  :  "  Well  done,  thou  good  servant,  because 
thou  wast  found  faithful  in  a  very  little,  have  thou 
authority  over  ten  cities  ! " 

Another  indication  of  purpose  must  not  be  over- 
looked. It  may  be  said  that  Job's  renewal  in  soul  should 
have  been  enough  for  him,  that  he  might  have  spent 
humbly  what  remained  of  life,  at  peace  with  men,  in  sub- 
mission to  God.  But  our  author  was  animated  by  the 
Hebrew  realism,  that  healthy  behef  in  life  as  the  gift 
of  God,  which  kept  him  always  clear  on  the  one  hand 
of  Greek  fatalism,  on  the  other  of  Oriental  asceticism. 
This  strong  faith  in  hfe  might  well  lead  him  into  the 


xlii.  7-17-]  EPILOGUE.  411 


details  of  sons  and  daughters,  grandchildren  and  great- 
grandchildren, flocks,  tribute,  and  years  of  honour. 
Nor  did  he  care  at  the  end  though  any  one  said  that 
after  all  the  Adversary  was  right.  He  had  to  show 
expanding  life  as  God's  recompense  of  faithfulness. 
Satan  has  long  ago  disappeared  from  the  drama  ;  and 
in  any  case  the  epilogue  is  chiefly  a  parable.  It  is, 
however,  a  parable  involving,  as.  our  Lord's  parables 
always  involve,  the  sound  view  of  man's  existence, 
neither  that  of  Prometheus  on  the  rock  nor  of  the 
grim  anchorite  in  the  Egyptian  cave. 

The  writer's  finest  things  came  to  him  by  flashes. 
When  he  reached  the  close  of  his  book  he  was  not 
able  to  make  a  tragedy  and  leave  his  readers  rapt 
above  the  world.  No  pre-Christian  thinker  could  have 
bound  together  the  gleams  of  truth  in  a  vision  of  the 
spirit's  undying  nature  and  immortal  youth.  But  Job 
must  find  restored  power  and  energy  ;  and  the  close 
had  to  come,  as  it  does,  in  the  time  sphere.  We  can 
bear  to  see  a  soul  go  forth  naked,  driven,  tormented  ; 
we  can  bear  to  see  the  great  good  life  pass  from  the 
scaffold  or  the  fire,  because  we  see  God  meeting  it  in 
the  heaven.     But  we  have  seen  Christ. 

A  third  point  is  that  for  dramatic  completeness  the 
action  had  to  bring  Job  to  full  acquittal  in  view  of  his 
friends.  Nothing  less  will  satisfy  the  sense  of  poetic 
justice  which  rules  the  whole  work. 

Finally,  a  biographical  reminiscence  may  have  given 
colour  to  the  epilogue.  If,  as  we  have  supposed,  the 
author  was  once  a  man  of  substance  and  power  in 
Israel,  and,  reduced  to  poverty  in  the  time  of  the 
Assyrian  conquest,  found  himself  an  exile  in  Arabia — 
the  wistful  sense  of  impotence  in  the  world  must  have 
touched  all  his  thinking.     Perhaps  he  could  not  expect 


THE  BOOK   OF  JOB. 


for  himself  renewed  power  and  place ;  perhaps  he  had 
regretfully  to  confess  a  want  of  faithfulness  in  his  own 
past.  All  the  more  might  he  incline  to  bring  his  great 
work  to  a  close  with  a  testimony  to  the  worth  and 
design  of  the  earthly  gifts  of  God,  the  temporal  life 
which  He  appoints  to  man,  that  present  discipline 
most  graciously  adapted  to  our  present  powers  and  yet 
full  of  preparation  for  a  higher  evolution,  the  life  not 
seen,  eternal  in  the  heavens. 


INDEX. 


Abraham   faith  of,  27. 

Accadian  psalms,  3. 

Acquittal,  Job  expects,  285. 

Agnostic,  117. 

Amiel  quoted,  88,  288. 

Amos,  chap.  iv.  4,  44. 

Angel-interpreter,  351, 

Argument,  the  reconciling,  392. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  quoted,  95. 

Assize,  the  Great,  292. 

Astrologj-,  neglected,  317. 

Author,  his  greatness,  6 ;  lives  in 
the  poem,  7  ;  member  of  Northern 
Kingdom,  15  ;  in  the  desert,  17; 
inspiration  of,  32;  paints  his  own 
trials,  68 ;  his  brave  truthfulness, 
224  ;  his  prophetic  insight,  303. 

Bexe-Kedem,  23. 

Bible,  universality  of,  17. 

Bigot,  the,  244. 

Bildad,  character  of,  102  ;  his  first 
speech,  135  ;  his  second  speech, 
215;  his  bitterness,  216;  his 
third  speech,  298. 

Boethius  quoted,  288. 

Book  of  Job,  a  poem  of  the  soul,  3; 
precursors  of,  3 ;  poetical  art  of> 
5;  date  of,  6;  autobiographical, 
7,  411;  style  of,  8;  problem  of, 
II;  personality  in,  12;  place  in 
canon,  27  ;  main  controversy  of. 


loi ;  inspiration  of,  122;  logic 
of,  295  ;  prepares  for  Christ,  265, 
404. 

Bunyan  quoted,  144. 

Bushnell,  H.,  quoted,  259. 

Carlyle,  T.,  quoted,  68,  223. 

Catholic  theologian,  135. 

Chaldaeans,  65. 

Chaos,  no  moral,  273. 

Christ,  sacrifice  of,  62  ;  mediation 

of,     121;    His    preaching,    276; 

Redeemer,  242,  404  ;  preparation 

for,  265. 
Church,  the  Jewish,  14. 
Church,    complaints    against,    264 ; 

its  dut}',  295. 
Chflfin  the  desert,  231. 
Consolation,  80. 
Corporate  sympathy,  230. 
Creed  of  Job's  friends,  155. 
Criticism  of  first  author,  346. 

Dante,  60. 

Davidson,  Dr.  A.  B.,  11,  96,  311,  333. 

Davidson,  Dr.  S.,  6. 

Death,  finality  of,  187. 

Deism  and  positivism,  36^. 

Delay  of  the  Almighty,  269. 

Dogmatism,  136. 

Doughty,  Mr.  C.  M.,  20. 

Dualism,  166. 

Duty,  keep  close  to,  88. 


413 


414 


INDEX. 


Edwards,  Jonathan,  quoted,  274. 

Egyptian  "Book  of  the  Dead,"  212. 

Elihu,  who  was  he  ?  343  ;  inspira 
tion  claimed  by,  342. 

Eliphaz,  character  of,  102  ;  his  first 
speech,  99;  vision  of,  106;  appa- 
rently right,  113;  his  religion, 
114;  his  second  speech,  187;  a 
pure  Temanite,  189;  jealous  for 
God,  191 ;  his  third  speech,  269. 

Eloah,  the  righteous,  232 ;  and  the 
work  of  His  hands,  233 ;  open- 
ing Sheol,  233. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  quoted,  257. 

Eschatology,  rose-water,  55. 

"  Everlasting  Yea,"  67. 

Evolution,  spiritual,"58;  of  religion, 
180  ;  physical,  completes  nothing, 
241  ;  reveals  Divine  wisdom,  318. 

Ewald,  H.,  II,  15. 

Failure  of  old  world,  280. 

Fairbairn,  Dr.  A.  M.,  57. 

Faith,    and    happiness,    45 ;    three 

barriers  of,- 235. 
False  judgments,  86. 
Fate  of  the  wicked,  219. 
Festus  quoted,  290. 
Finality  and  progress,  193. 
Funeral  in  the  desert,  264. 

God,  no  despot,  149 ;  seems  to  per- 
secute, 176,  204;  and  natCire, 
301. 

Godliness,  earthly  reward  of,  245. 

Goel,  the,  234. 

Happiness  and  faith,  45. 

Hauran,  20. 

Hebrew    thought,    limitations     of, 

164  ;  realism,  410. 
Hokhma,  9,  16. 
Human  frailty,  177. 


Idealism,  65,  79. 

Idolatry,  333. 

Idumaea,  religion  of,  25. 

Individualism  of  psalms,  13. 

Inherited  opinions,  169. 

Inquiry  and  reverence,  389. 

Inspiration,  of  author,  32, 33  ;  within 

limits,  224,  384,  387 ;  claimed  by 

Elihu,  342. 
Irresistible  power,  141. 
Isaiah  compared  with  Job,  10. 

Jauf,  20. 

Jehovah,  servant  of,  15. 

Jewel  in  the  lotus,  364. 

Jewish  Church,  14. 

Job,  a  real  man,  22;  religion  of, 
24 ;  character  of,  28 ;  early  pro- 
sperity of,  29  ;  dream-life  of,  30  ; 
when  he  lived,  31  ;  trials  of,  63; 
tj'-pe  of  righteous  sufferer,  67 ; 
his  integrity,  72  ;  his  faith,  74 ; 
his  wife,  75  ;  his  friends,  78  ; 
curses  his  day,  89;  praises  death, 
92;  rebuked  for  scepticism,  154; 
prophetic,  208 ;  idealised,  337  ; 
made  priest,  410. 

Justice,  of  man  no  refuge,  86;  in 
every  matter,  237  ;  physical  argu- 
ment for,  238. 

Kings,  their  favour,  357,  369. 
Kinship  with  Eloah,  181. 
Knowledge   not    the    main    thing, 

390- 
Koheleth,  38. 

Letters  and  theology,  4. 
j    Life,  is  it  for  enjoyment  ?  52  ;  mean- 
ing of,   in   the   Gospels,   61 ;    as 
vigour,   260;  principle  of  man's, 
382  ;  rewards  life,  409. 


INDEX, 


415 


Materialism,  54. 

Mediator,  desire  for  a,  147. 

Mephistophcles,  36. 

Mesbcle,  72. 

Microcosm  and  macrocosm,  402. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  quoted,  256. 

Mining,  314. 

Modern  science,  165, 

Natural  religion,   25 ;    source   of, 

178;  ends  with  a  sigh,  290. 
Nature  and  God,  166,  287,  301. 
Necessity,  130. 

Obedience,  reward  of,  42. 

Ode  cited  by  Elihu,  370. 

Oriental,  society,  ideas  of,  50;  life, 

contrasts  of,  72;  character,  131. 
Orthodoxy  uncorrupted,  197. 

Pain,  not    evil,  52-5 ;   and   impru- 
dence, 59;  mj'stery  of,  120. 
Paley  quoted,  53. 
Palgrave,  W.  G.,  quoted,  20. 
Personality,  12. 
Pessimism,  38. 
Pharisee  and  Sadducee,  germs  of, 

377. 
Phcenix,  324. 
Piety,  daring,  133. 
Pity  of  it,  the,  229. 
"Positive  evil,"  77. 
Poverty  of  spirit,  196. 
Precursors  of  Job,  3. 
Primitive  religion  of  Semites,  180. 
Probation,  47. 
Problem,  of  the  book,  1 1 ;  universal, 

403- 
Prophet,  the,  a  critic,  246. 
Proverbs,  chaps,  iii.,  viii,,  9. 
Providence,  enigma  of,  207  ;  special, 

225. 


Psalms,  individualism  in,  12. 
Punishment  of  sin,  59. 

Rabbi,  the,  368. 

Real  and  ideal,  152. 

Religion,   decay   of,   16;    evolution 

of,  180. 
Renan  quoted,  399. 
Revelation,  117. 
Righteousness,  man  not  saved  by, 

388. 
Ruskin,  J.,  quoted,  372,  374,  396. 

Sabeans,  65. 

Sacrifice  of  Christ,  62. 

Sacrificed  classes,  170. 

Satan,   34;   Dante's,    35;   Milton's, 

35  ;  power  of,  36 ;  challenged  by 

the  Almighty,  40 ;  his  question, 

42;  disappears,  71. 
Scepticism,  41,  140. 
Schopenhauer,  37,  39. 
Semites,  primitive  religion  of,  180. 
Servant  of  Jehovah,  15. 
Sheol,    life    in,    183 ;    no    hope    in, 

211  ;  no  penalty  in,  255. 
Sin,    punishment    of,    59 ;    does    it 

bring  suffering?  157. 
Sincerity  of  mind,  169. 
Skin  for  skin,  69. 
Smith,  Dr.  Robertson,  43. 
Social,  meliorism,  46;  tyranny,  331. 
Sons  of  the  Elohim,  37. 
Soulless  human  beings,  70. 
Special  pleading  for  God,  17 1. 
Spencer,  H.,  52. 
Spiritual  evolution,  58. 
Suicide,  97,  124. 

Teman,  15. 

Theology  and   letters,  4 ;  new  be- 
ginning in,  15. 
Theosophy,  39. 


4i6 


INDEX. 


Total  depravity,  195. 
Trouble,  wherefore  ?  282. 

Universal  problem,  403. 
Uz,  19. 

Wisdom,    of  the   past,    138,     192 ; 
quest  of,  313. 


Woman's  life,  75. 

Worldly  prosperity  offered  to  Job, 
137,  159- 

ZoPHAR,  his  character,  102 ;  his  first 
speech,  154;  no  mere  echo,  161  ; 
his  second  speech,  243;  his  third 
speech,  309. 


>^.. 


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